Long stations for short trolleys

I wonder why the Green Line stations along Huntington Avenue are so long?  Was there really a time when three- and four-car trolleys plied between Lechmere and Forest Hills?  The underground stations have as much length so this systemic design must be for a reason.

The Red and Orange Line platforms are a perfect fit for their trains.  I haven't been on the Blue for awhile, but I assume they are likewise.  If I recall, Aquarium is very long, but they just bought some new Blue Line trains so the new models may fit now.

A two-car train is slow going down Huntington and South Huntington Streets as it is.  I can only imagine the effects on traffic of a four-car model going through Jamaica Plain.  Not that it wouldn't be good.  I'd visit JP more often.

Thanks to Dr. Hermes for today's illustration.

Dorchester's mass transit

Prior to the days when the car became king of intra-city transportation options, most of Boston's neighborhoods were served by street cars. That tradition is perpetuated by the various Green lines and the Mattapan High-Speed, but every other route has been demolished and replaced by concrete meridians, most of them sterile concrete curbways in mid street where pedestrians must pause between lanes of traffic. Blue Hill Avenue is the most eye-displeasing example, especially on the Mattapan approach (or exit depending on whether you are heading inbound or out). Blue Hill Ave along much of its length is split by a wide expanse of raised cement that is dotted with light poles and ornamental planters at regular intervals. Despite the greenery that straggles over the brims of the pots, this is a dead zone that could be put to much better use.

The Dorchester Reporter, this part of Boston's paper of record, feautres a thoughtful assessment of the proposal for a mass transit upgrade along Blue Hill Avenue, that goes by either the unattractive or futuristic name, depending on your viewpoint, of 28X. This is basically an extensition of Silver Line type service from Ruggles to Mattapan Square by way of Dudley. I'm for it, but I think it needs a better name. I'm not in marketing but 'Silver Line South' or, more evocatively, 'Silver Line Zephyr' would be better names pointing to the relatively more efficient nature of the proposed service. Buses in dedicated lanes with enclosed stations would run more like trains than like the current Bus 28 route.

The Silver Line has a bad reputation in some circles, but I've always enjoyed using it. I've never taken it to Southie but I have taken it to the airport. Though this branch of the Silver Line is a mass transit option that seems to have been designed by a committee of camels, it gets to the airport in convenient, hassel-free time, even when most passengers are stowing oversized suitcases. I prefer taking the Washington Street branch to taking the Orange Line when I need to reach parts of Boston east of the South End proper. It's not an elevated train and it doesn't run through Eggleston Square all the way to Forest Hills (and I fault it for that) but it ably serves the areas it is designed to serve. It is also much quieter than a train, which is something the neighbors probably appreciate.

Much like the E Line was "Mayor Tobin's Baby," able to be constructed because of funding by an infusion of New Deal dollars, the construction of the 28X (can I call it the Silver Line Zephyr?) hinges on the support of federal funds available under another Democratic federal administration. Without the infusion of federal funding, Blue Hill Avenue may be serviced by more inexpensive, regular bus service for infinite years. Why is this proposal being green-lighted now? Because funds are available. This is not "Mayor Menino's Baby" however. Influence over mass transit has been stripped from local control and it a thing only indirectly addressed by mayoral canditates. There is no use discussing something over which you have little influence. Governor Patrick is the party responsible for putting this baby in the bath. I appreciate him doing it, but it highlights how much control Boston's 'strong mayor' has over developments in what should be his or her jurisdiction.

My advice: strike while the iron is hot. Upgrade when you can. Upgrade to a dedicated bus right-of-way and get the infrastructure in place. If demand exceeds supply, muti-car light rail will be easier to deploy in the future. A train line is an expensive thing to build. The tracks won't get laid on virgin land. Is there any virgin land left in Boston? I think dedicating a section of public thoroughfare to efficient public transportation will make future upgrades more palatable if and when they are needed. Contentious people will demand platinum service when they could settle for gold. It may not be 24-karat gold, but it will be something more than gold plate over cheap zinc. Niether Rome nor Mattapan Square were built in a day. Both are still works in progress, and both should take advantage of whatever opportunities are available to be viable for the next few decade. Given the chance to build on what you have on hand, roll the dice and wax.

28X will be an improvement over current bus service and it will also construct stations right now that will be a needed component of a more heavy-stock network should it be built in 2020. That will result in a cost savings and reduce the price tag should the decision be made to expand rail service to Blue Hill Avenue. Needless to say, a more efficient transit line along Blue Hill Ave. will provide some construction jobs and will provide easier access to the neighborhoods it serves, boosting businesses and raising potential property values. To those who are against improved service, I ask, "What are you afraid of?"

I once read a maxim that many people seem to subscribe to: "If you are over thirty years old and rely on the bus, you are a life failure." I haven't owned a car for more than twenty years but I know that car ownership is a part of the American dream. This is all very nice if you live on a farm or in the suburbs, but I, like most Dorchesterites live in a city. A car can be as much an inconvenience as it is a neccessity. City living isn't about driving. It is about interacting with your fellow citizens. City dwellers do it on the street when they walk, they should do it when they travel by every other means beside their feet, except by car. The bus allows it. 28X will do it with added convenience and efficiency.

In other related news, the Ashmont bus stops have been taken off Dot Ave. I noticed this two weeks ago when I went to Ashmont to take the Mattapan High-Speed Trolley to Lower Mills. I was amazed to see the amount of space dedicated to boarding and disembarking the many bus routes that serve Dorchester. Ashmont Station has been closed for construction since I moved to Boston two years ago. It seems to be an efficient arrangement off the main road. People bad mouth the MBTA. I have a few quibbles, but they are too few to mention. Having lived in a city with hourly bus service that wended its way to take an hour to travel three miles on some routes and an hour to travel ten miles on others, how can I complain about the MBTA's schedule?

Dorchester is blessed by the past investments in the Dorchester Tunnel and the Red Line, the Mattapan High-Speed. It is hard to walk away from the costs that were sunk to build this infrastructure and the benefits that still accrue from them keep this part of Boston vital and active. Dorchester isn't written off as a backwater because it is still an interconnected part of the city's fabric by industrially engineered mass transit lines. The more the better. The more capital outlays, the less anyone wants to abandon the past expense. It's already built, we may as well use it. Dorchester is one of the most vital parts of Boston because it is one of the most well connected. It cannot be ignored. Anyone who looks at an MBTA subway map can see that.

Orange Line vs. Acela

A regular conclave has met during recent weekday mornings at the Butterfly Cafe at Roxbury Crossing Station. It consists of Seventh Day Adventist missionaries, off-duty Mass Art baristas, LaRouchie pamphleteers, and the guy who hands out the Metro. A recurring topic of conversation is this thought experiment: Which would win a race, the Orange Line or the Acela?

The Metro guy puts his money on the MBTA, but the T and its customers are his bread-and-butter.

Events conspired to set up a perfect coincidence. As the Orange Line was heading inbound out of the station, the Acela sidled alongside on a parallel track. The Acela is as sleek and streamlined as a jackrabbit. The Orange Line trains are as boxy and ponderous as turtles. As the two progressed, the Acela steamed easily ahead, withholding its full power but still slipping ahead likes its rails were greased. The Orange Line train lurched along, losing ground but not entirely giving up the ghost of a chance to get ahead.

As the Orange Line cars pulled into Ruggles with the third rail sparking, the Acela was swept along on its own schedule, unaware of the bets that had been settled during this encounter. Of course, the Orange Line had to make its designated stop to serve its passengers. On an open, transcontinental track without obligations, who knows what would happen if the engineer could open up the throttle?

Orange you glad

I was on the Orange Line around 1:00 (PM, naturally) wondering what to do with my afternoon. I'm tired of the dash and flash of modern life, the little gadgets, the virtual everything, the constant connection and interuption and stimuli. I'm just on the Orange Line, happy to be riding those analog rails, knowing full well that my day will end in digitization and high definition.

Then it hits me. The answer is all around me staring me in my twenty-first century face. The chat room is full and my buddy list can do well enough without me for awhile. I should power down and pucker up. I should deliver the original instant message. I should buy a pack of gum and make some face time.

Thanks for the suggestion Dentyne! The lady of the house is happy I took your advice.

Resistence is Futile

We are sure that in as geek-heavy a city as Boston this observation has been made before but this is an acromymn that bears repeating. The Borg are a race of sentient machines that devour organic life in thier path for thier own, group-think purposes in the Star Trek mythos (the Next Generation). The letters arrange quite nicely if a Bostonian travels from Wonderland to State Street to Downtown Crossing to Park Street Station for a trip out to Riverside.

Blue-Orange-Red-Green. B-O-R-G.

Of course life lived pressed close to the flesh on the MBTA is more free and lively than that conjectured in sci-fi telenovelas. Isn't it Charlie? If there can be a Silver Line, can there be more than one Borg?

Manicures on the T

My nails need a little trimming so I thought I would blend in with the crowd and bring some clippers onto the T. I thought better of it in the end, but I got to wondering: what makes this act of personal hygiene so attractive to perform on the train? I see people clipping thier nails on the T all the time.

The Red Line is a popular line on which to perform this task, but the Blue and Orange lines seem equally inviting. I see less of this behavior on Green Lines trolleys, but once the streetcars get underground, the stainless steel clippers come out. Do dark windows make closet nail clippers come into the light? The Silver Line is the only branch of the MBTA that doesn't seem to tempt this urge to nip cuticles or cut off excess keratin. No one straphangs with a hangnail in Boston.

I live in Dorchester, and when I disembark at JFK/UMASS station I walk past plenty of front porches where people are clipping thier nails, letting the shards fly where they may onto the sidewalk. On front porches people clip thier toenails too, something I haven't yet witnessed on the T. Maybe I don't ride often enough.

Restaurant Review

This doesn't take place in Dorchester, but it is a Boston experience all the same.

JAMAICA PLAIN. Here is a nice date to experience with someone special. Take the Orange Line to Stony Brook Station. When you exit the station doors, take a right and head towards the well-lit and attractive package store that is located at one of the sweetest spots to sell liquor in Boston. This date doesn’t involve narrow brown bags though. Keep walking up the street which is lined with a variety of large houses that provide plenty of conversational fodder for you and your escort.

You’ll walk a few blocks through a residential neighborhood. The other people who disembarked from the train will be headed the same way, some branching off along well-lit, tidy side streets while others tack straight ahead. The variety of homes allows two people to judge each other’s tastes in living situations and style. Even in the cold, people sit on their front porches and the stained glass around front doors and in stairwells glows with ambient light. The quarter mile to Center Street flies by under meandering footsteps.

The vista that greets a couple on Center Street can be disconcerting. A brightly-lit, rounded beige façade sporting a neon CVS logo glows in the dark. You step out into a proper square where streets converge. A restaurant/lounge called Alchemist glows ambiently with an air of mystery, but this isn’t a date meant to impress. It is a rendezvous to get to know each other better and spend time where the company isn’t overwhelmed by the surroundings. Rather than turn right down toward Jackson Square or cross the intersection to Alchemist, turn left past the pizzeria and try out Acapulco.

This is a Mexican restaurant in the best low-rent, high-class tradition, proud of its ethnicity. Sparkly, embroidered sombreros are mounted on the white stuccoed walls over draped colorful, wool scarves. A faux, red tile, cantina roof is mounted over the bar. The double-wide dining room is separated by arches that both open and partition the space. The arches are accented with glued on fake, quarter-inch thick bricks. Music plays low and almost every song contains the refrain, “Ai-yi-yi-yi,” over gently caressed guitar strings and accordion notes.

The menu runs the gamut of price ranges, but none are too far out of reach. A page dedicated to Tex-Mex staples, tacos, enchiladas, and such, goes no higher than $12.oo for a combination plate and the portions are generous. The other five pages of menu are reserved for more specialized Mexican fare, what they don’t serve to tourists and what they don’t serve in at Taco Bell. The top price is $16.00 should one want to stray to authentic fare. The mood is relaxed, grounded South of the Border ambience punctuated by the natural boisterousness regular clientele bring to a well-liked dining hall.

One wall is dominated by an oil painting of a bull fight approximately ten feet long by six feet high. This will never land in the Museum of Fine Arts, but it is art nonetheless. The view of the Spanish ladies, copied from Goya reproductions, that frame the left edge of the picture are worth the price of the meal. My companion commented, “The ladies look so pretty.” I was struck by the crowd depicted in the background of the ring. Numerous personalities are painted with a masterful brevity of brushstrokes producing a swirl of individual expressions captured at the height of excitement. The matador and the bull are somewhat less expertly rendered. They are a little stiff and out of proportion, but the artist’s shortcomings in technical skill in no way diminish the impact of what he tried to portray.

Some recommendations: We started with the cactus salad, which was a nice mixture of fresh and pickled ingredients. The cactus slices over thinly shredded iceberg lettuce and tomato wedges were flavored with the lightest brine. There was no need to open the two packets of Kraft Creamy Italian Dressing that were provided on the side of the salad bowl. I had a Burro Grande with spicy green sauce. My companion had a Chicken Quesadilla. Neither of us had any cause for complaint.

What sets Acapulco apart from the run-of-the-mill Mexican restaurant was the pitcher of sangria we drank. It arrived in a liter carafe and was served in an ice-filled wine glass with a squeezed slice of lime. The carafe is called a full pitcher on the menu and costs $20.00. They are twenty dollars well spent. The first sip is ambrosia and every following sip is a perfect accompaniment to the food and the atmosphere. We didn’t finish the carafe, but we left Acapulco with full, satisfied stomachs and in a good mood.

The sangria recipe is a secret but you can ask anyway. All you will learn is that the ingredient that makes this red wine and fruit concoction special is also a product of the venerated cactus family. As the staff will tell you, “People like it.” We tasted orange and saw evidence of muddled grapes, but never learned what definitively made this sangria something so special. The sangria alone is worth a return visit.

After leaving the restaurant, retrace your steps back to Stony Brook Station. The walk passes by even more quickly than before. On feet full of the fruit of Acapulco’s kitchen and bar, the neighborhood is a blur of sights familiar from an hour ago seen in new light. Luckily, the Orange Line is rarely crowded, so there is always a seat. Not that it matters. A trip to the Acapulco restaurant is worth twenty minutes of strap-hanging, especially in good company.