The Old Coot is on the
right side of the tracks.
By Merlin Lessler
I live in a train station.
A horn blasts! A quiet toot-toot would be more pleasant, but the loud blast is
OK. Then comes that wonderful train wheel rumble; it continues for ten minutes
or more. One of my favorite sounds.
We moved to a new location
last year, close to the tracks. I couldn’t be more thrilled with the proximity
to the railroad rumble. I’ve been a train nut since 1950, when I found an
electric train set under the tree. It eventually grew into a two-level layout,
with three train sets running at the same time, gated road crossing, lighted
Plasticville houses, tunnels and more. Thanks to my father’s efforts to “help”
me build this wonderland, primarily by handing him a tool or a piece of track
and listening to him yelp and say, “#@*&#,” when he hit his thumb with the
hammer. A lot of my friend’s fathers "Helped” them too.
I grew up and eventually
duplicated the layout myself, but on a modest scale. I bought a train set,
houses, scenery and other items at garage sales and flea markets. It was
constructed to fit under our Christmas tree and spent the rest of the year out
of sight, in the attic. I eventually replaced that under the tree layout with
an LGB big train set that ran on a high shelf around the room in my “man cave.”
I could then watch it from my recliner
and hear the clickety-clack as it circled overhead, sending me to dreamland within
just a few minutes of “reading” my favorite novel.
I recreated that same set-up
in the next house we moved to, but since then we downsized and moved again; I now
don’t have a place for my train anymore, but the loss was made up for by the
real trains that rumble by throughout the day. They work the same magic that my
model train did, sending me to dreamland, as I “read” in my recliner. I wake
with a startle, when a second train comes through, blasting its horn to warn the
public to get off the tracks. My first thought is, “Where am I? In a train
station?” When the fog in my brain subsides, I realize it’s just a train
passing by, and go back to my book and let the rumble put me back to sleep. I
love living in this train station.
Comments? Complaints? –
Send to mlessler7@gmail.com
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