Being on a train
I try and write these letters fairly spontaneously -- I sit down at a coffee shop on Sunday, I write for around thirty minutes, I make sure there are no egregious spelling errors or broken links, and then I hit send.
I do this for two reasons: first, it's *easier*. The mental friction of planning out something for multiple days can feel difficult and daunting, and the reason I stopped writing these for so long was because of the multiplicative stress of planning out what I wanted to say.
The act of walking to a coffee shop, getting a cappuccino, writing this letter, finishing my drink, and then leaving the coffee shop is comparatively low-stakes and frictionless.
The second reason is that I want these letters to sound like I'm talking with you at a coffee shop. That's the vibe I'm going for, you know? Something a little more familiar and meandering.
Anyway, I'm writing this on Saturday, not Sunday. This is the first week I can remember that I've cheated like this -- I will finish writing this in a little bit, save it, and then send it tomorrow.
The reason for this is simple: I am on a train from Richmond to Durham.
I spent last week complaining about how the magical experience of travel -- the act of packing, of being in the sky, of planing and deplaning -- has largely evaporated into a fog of dread and grogginess.
You know what is still magical, though? **Being on a train.**
Here is what I like about being on a train:
- It is quiet, but not too quiet. The ambient space of a train is a low hum punctuated by errant whispers and a big whistle. This is *perfect* for me, plus there is a quiet car if you really need to concentrate. Every public space needs a quiet car equivalent: libraries have quiet rooms, sure, but diners and cafes and cocktail bars and offices and parks would all be so much better if they had a space cordoned off specifically for quiet.
- It is comfortable. I have leg room and an extra seat and can walk around if I want to. I feel like cattle on an airplane; I do not feel like cattle when on a train.
- There are many interesting things to see on trains. In the past five minutes I have looked outside my window and seen: a run-down church, lots of good graffiti, some very good dilapidated storefronts (*Hiram's Discounted Rugs*, *Shiro's Trophy Store*, *KRN BBQ*), and four cows.
- There is the perfect amount of WiFi on trains: fast enough to get emails and lightly browse but not fast enough to stream media or play games, forcing you to do something productive with your time.
- You can bring beverages on trains. You can bring pretty much anything on trains, because the act of boarding a train is pretty much frictionless: you purchase a ticket, you put your things in bags, you take the bags onto the train. At some point, a person will come around the train to make sure you have the ticket. This is *insanely pleasant* compared to flight.
I have been on this train for around three hours, and have one hour or so left. I have caught up on emails, accomplished a bunch of side project stuff that I've been putting off for weeks, caught up on *Archer* and *Riverdale*, listened to a new album (*Cokiyu*!), and now I'm writing this. It has been a thoroughly lovely and productive afternoon.
One hour left until I arrive in Durham. Part of me wants this ride to last forever.
---
Happy Sunday. I hope you spend some time in a quiet car.
I do this for two reasons: first, it's *easier*. The mental friction of planning out something for multiple days can feel difficult and daunting, and the reason I stopped writing these for so long was because of the multiplicative stress of planning out what I wanted to say.
The act of walking to a coffee shop, getting a cappuccino, writing this letter, finishing my drink, and then leaving the coffee shop is comparatively low-stakes and frictionless.
The second reason is that I want these letters to sound like I'm talking with you at a coffee shop. That's the vibe I'm going for, you know? Something a little more familiar and meandering.
Anyway, I'm writing this on Saturday, not Sunday. This is the first week I can remember that I've cheated like this -- I will finish writing this in a little bit, save it, and then send it tomorrow.
The reason for this is simple: I am on a train from Richmond to Durham.
I spent last week complaining about how the magical experience of travel -- the act of packing, of being in the sky, of planing and deplaning -- has largely evaporated into a fog of dread and grogginess.
You know what is still magical, though? **Being on a train.**
Here is what I like about being on a train:
- It is quiet, but not too quiet. The ambient space of a train is a low hum punctuated by errant whispers and a big whistle. This is *perfect* for me, plus there is a quiet car if you really need to concentrate. Every public space needs a quiet car equivalent: libraries have quiet rooms, sure, but diners and cafes and cocktail bars and offices and parks would all be so much better if they had a space cordoned off specifically for quiet.
- It is comfortable. I have leg room and an extra seat and can walk around if I want to. I feel like cattle on an airplane; I do not feel like cattle when on a train.
- There are many interesting things to see on trains. In the past five minutes I have looked outside my window and seen: a run-down church, lots of good graffiti, some very good dilapidated storefronts (*Hiram's Discounted Rugs*, *Shiro's Trophy Store*, *KRN BBQ*), and four cows.
- There is the perfect amount of WiFi on trains: fast enough to get emails and lightly browse but not fast enough to stream media or play games, forcing you to do something productive with your time.
- You can bring beverages on trains. You can bring pretty much anything on trains, because the act of boarding a train is pretty much frictionless: you purchase a ticket, you put your things in bags, you take the bags onto the train. At some point, a person will come around the train to make sure you have the ticket. This is *insanely pleasant* compared to flight.
I have been on this train for around three hours, and have one hour or so left. I have caught up on emails, accomplished a bunch of side project stuff that I've been putting off for weeks, caught up on *Archer* and *Riverdale*, listened to a new album (*Cokiyu*!), and now I'm writing this. It has been a thoroughly lovely and productive afternoon.
One hour left until I arrive in Durham. Part of me wants this ride to last forever.
---
Happy Sunday. I hope you spend some time in a quiet car.