Transporta-zen

For my daily commute home, I take a Metro North train from Fordham to Grand Central; there I take the Grand Central - Times Square Shuttle (the "S" train), and then the N or Q home from Times Square. The S train, as the full name implies, runs exclusively between Grand Central and Times Square, with three trains operating pretty much every two minutes during rush hour. At these times, the S is always packed like a cattle car because, as it turns out, many a New Yorker passes between Grand Central and Times Square during the business day. I have learned, however, that if you miss one S train, you'll really only have to wait two minutes for the next one -- and I mean two minutes for it to be fully-boarded and leave. It is not a long wait.

Nevertheless, commuters who would think twice before hastening their pace to save their mothers from an oncoming vehicle suddenly feel compelled to break into a full sprint in order to make it into whatever S train they see sitting in the station. I have seen fat people, old ladies, groups of friends holding hands...all running for their lives to make it into a train in order to avoid the two-minute wait for the next one. I have seen folks of all sorts shove parts of their bodies (or their children's bodies -- once I saw someone propel a baby stroller forward as a door jam) or their possessions into the closing train doors in order to buy themselves a spot on a train. Before today, I had never seen an elderly Tibetan monk make that effort. To his credit, when the train left him standing on the platform, he didn't curse or yell. He barely looked anguished. That's called being at peace with yourself.