Travelling the Highway of Life in the Single Lane

Hey Ho - The Lumineers

I love to talk, I love to write but I can't say it any better than The Lumineers:

I've been trying to do it right

I've been living a lonely life

I've been sleepin' here instead

I've been sleepin' in my bed

So show me family 

All the blood that I will bleed

I don't know where I belong

I don't know where I went wrong

But I can write a song...

The empty chair.

No one likes to be in the midst of a crowd of people with the only vacant seat in the room being the one next to you. What does it mean exactly? You begin to question yourself. Did I shower this morning? Did I use to heavy a hand with my fragrance? But if you are me, you internalise and assume it is the you that you cannot change. The intrinsic personality that has developed and been set in stone since birth. It that core belief system that has been reinforced everytime you see that empty chair beside you. There is nobody who wants to sit through the ride of life next to you. Of course the rationale side of you knows that this is not the case, rather sometimes you have to look outside of the room - beyond the assembled crowd to find the right participant for your life's journey. 

But at that moment, it wouldn't matter if there were 5 other empty chairs in the room, you would feel like there was a spotlight on the one next to you. The empty chair means that you have come alone. You are the one travelling the highway of life in the single lane. There is no one that is going to take that spot and help you move into the more popular HOV (High Occupancy Vehicle) lane. But we can't always decide when someone will chose to sit and rub elbows with us. Chance or fate. There are somethings that are just out of our control. 

One thing that most of us lugging that chair like an albatross around our neck wants is someone else to decide who is going to sit. Who we spend time with, whether it is a casual acquaintance or a life mate should be a decision we make on our own. There are a lot of people I like and respect in my world, but not everyone of those people would have open access to the secrets of my heart. There are many I could spend even hours with in a social environment but one on one and someone would be begging for mercy and looking for an escape route. It would probably be me. One of my most favourite people in the world is me! I enjoy spending time with myself and can always find something to occupy my time. I think that makes me more particular about who I wish to spend my time with. Why just last evening an acquaintance was cozying up making conversation - and while I was outwardly cordial, I didn't invite discourse beyond the superficial banter. I had my guard up for sure, but that was only because I know for a fact that she has taken what little she knows about me and used it as gossip at her weekly social gabfest. Why would I give her more ammunition? Does this make me cold and unsociable? Perhaps - but it is also self-preservation. Maybe if I see her again, I will have the courage to speak my mind and tell her what I think of her malicious gossip.

Who am I kidding? One piece of advice that my Mom loved to share was if you have nothing nice to say, then keep it to yourself. I won't say anything, I will hold my tongue. Inside I will hurt and I will cry but it is quite unlikely that I will share my thoughts especially with someone who I have been hurt by.

Mental illness like Cancer or any other human ailment is not something that people wish to have. Most often the onset is out of their control. Personally, a diagnosis of depression and anxiety is certainly not something I ever expected to happen at this stage of my life. I would have been less surprised if it had come about in my pre-teen or even teen years (when I really could have classified as messed up). But now? 

Closer to retirement than not, my lifes' course was set in my mind. The children were "successfully" raised and making their own way in the world. I had a job that I loved and financially, things were coming together. I could start to look forward to the extra things in life - maybe even a trip back overseas to explore more of Europe. Socially, it was time to focus on finding that right person to sit in the empty chair - at least there would be some fun in the search!

But with that diagnosis nearly two long and lonely years ago came alienation. If I announced the big "C" had invaded my life, I would have people coming out of the woodwork to offer support and comfort. As it is, people are afraid. There is still a stigma attached to mental illness, people seem to fear that they might catch it if they are exposed to the tears that fall. The only thing I see is that I am seeing you for your true muted colours. And I want to run away and I won't look back to see you. You probably won't even notice. And I'm talking about the people who should be standing next to me - family. Or in my case the people who in the past have wanted to "stand-in" for my family.

The celebration of Thanksgiving has recently passed for us living here in Canada. A time to get together with family, share a meal and some joy. We are lucky to be far enough away from Christmas that the American shopping frenzy that follows there Thanksgiving turkeyfest doesn't apply to us. Regardless, back to the Lumineers - Show me family and where I belong. Family has never been for me - and with the alienation due to my current struggle to survive, I didn't feel comfortable with the concept of family get-togethers. The square peg in the round hold syndrome. It has been said many times and now in countless facebook posts "Family is not always blood. It's the people in your life who want you in theirs, the ones who accept you for who you are. The ones who would do anything to see you smile, and who love you no matter what." In that case, my family is my friends. In-laws, cousins, aunts and uncles, grandparents - they are family of sorts by definition but not necessarily by actions. By their actions, I felt invited for the harvest feast by obligation not desire and there was an empty chair where I had sat in the past when I was well and accepted. Metaphoric empty chair - for I am sure that they found someone else to sit and break bread with the family. 

And that would be okay for I am not one to go where the welcome mat has been stowed away. But then I came across this little tidbit "A person's own family is, without a doubt, the greatest wealth we will ever achieve...we are rich!" My chair has been beside her at the table. I am not her own family. She is rich and I am...not worthy. Perhaps I am overly-sensitive but if you never thought that words can hurt...well they do. Those of us without family - by God's design or our own fate is not necessarily of our choosing. 



Maybe I don't know where I went wrong because I didn't go wrong. Wrong was done to me. I cannot climb in their head and understand their motivations. They are truly Ugly people with souls like rocks. And because of the unfortunate timing of it all I am going to pay a brief tribute to Amanda Todd. Amanda was a 15 year old girl from British Columbia who very recently succeeded in taking her own life. Amanda didn't do anything wrong, she had pride and self-esteem and shared the love of herself with someone else who exploited her youth and innocence by bullying and belittling her. She suffered from anxiety and depression and alienation. In her own words, I have nobody. I need somebody =( I feel her pain...acutely. I've been there. I am there. 

People don't die from suicide, they die from sadness! 

Truer words were never spoken. Invite someone to sit in the empty chair. You may save a life and at the very least you can be a somebody, even for just a little while. Don't judge. Believe. Just sit beside them so they aren't feeling so alone. 

Twin Ribbons of Steel

Canadian Railroad Trilogy - Gordon Lightfoot

HISTORY

Prime Minister Sir John A. MacDonald had the notion to build a railway from Montreal to the Pacific coast. Ah yes, Atlantic Canada was left out of the plan because the ships coming from the old country to the new one could sail in the St. Lawrence seaway as far as Montreal. It was 1871 and the newly formed country was anxious to claim British Columbia for its own before the United States gobbled it up. So with the lure of prosperity on the far side of the landmass the 10 year process of surveying the country to determine the best and cheapest route for the tracks to take began. From my perspective, more people were killed in the construction of the twin ribbons of steel that crossed the 6,000 kilometres (almost 4,000 miles) of virgin land then in accidents throughout the 100 plus years of service.  

Workers lay ties for the National Rail

The surveyors were the first casualties of the dream. Months spent trying to find the most direct route led to frosty conditions living in tents among the wildlife of the country. Many died as a result of lack of food, warmth, attacks by grizzly bears among other dangers. The Metis of Manitoba were none to thrilled about the train transecting their land and fought against the progress and transplantation to other reserves. Louis Riel who led the rebellion was hanged for treason, his band of First Nation people were sorely outnumbered by the 3000 strong troops the national government sent in. The Chinese of British Columbia were the next group to pay the ultimate price for the good of the country. They were paid half of what the white folds received and they had to pay for their own equipment and then on top of it all they were given the most dangerous jobs. They did the majority of the blasting through the Rocky Mountains that created the tunnels for the trains to pass through. It is said that in a 93 kilometer (57 miles) stretch of track through the Fraser Canyon 4 Chinese labourers died on the job, were killed outright or because of the deplorable living conditions they had to endure. That's nearly 230 people! By some reports it is one Chinese soul lost for every foot of track but in reality the true numbers aren't known but is likely in the thousands. The point is that a lot of sacrifices were made by many to fulfill the dream of a coast to coast transportation system in Canada. 

It was November 7 1885 that the last spike was driven into the iron road in Craigellachie, B.C. Communities not accessible by another means were serviced by the train system. Not every city in Canada had access to passable roads throughout the four seasons. Trains provided transport for people as well as goods. If the intention was to connect the citizens of the country, then the project was a resounding success. However, almost since the first train traversed the land, our leaders have not maintained any sense of pride for this great feat as they methodically snip away at the accessibility of the train. And that sucks.

LOVE AND HATE 

Tracks near Thunder Bay Railroad Station

I've had a love/hate relationship with trains all my life. Trains were the cause of my fathers death when I was 2 years old. The train that killed him was the very train I have dreamt of travelling on most my life. "The Canadian" that journeys from Toronto, Ontario to Vancouver, BC., although I did not always know that was the train that pulverized his car. The Clavett Street level crossing where he took his last breath was before the train reached downtown Port Arthur. The same tracks that further down permanently divided the city of Thunder Bay between the communities of Port Arthur and Fort William was a common spot for a traffic jam when I was growing up. It was probably just a clever trick that my mother used to finally get some peace and quiet but every time we got stuck at the tracks, we would all four sit in silence with our fingers pointing at the cars counting. As the barriers came down we all shouted out how long we thought the train would be. Winners were immaterial 5 minutes later, but it made it kind of cool watching the train rumble past. It was a sad day when in 1989 the final red caboose left the tracks. Seeing that car come around the bend was always the signal that soon we would be on our way again. And the trainman always had a wave for us - I wanted nothing more as a kid than to ride in the caboose. Even the word itself is fun. 

Sitting at that train crossing with the whole family in the car is one of my last childhood family memories before my life changed forever. And maybe if the corporations of the nations used the train system instead of over-loading the highways, my life may have been taken a happier path. The truck driver who fell asleep at the wheel/or was in some other way unfit to be on the road, would not have destroyed my life. But if there is one thing we know, it is that the past cannot be changed - though we should be smart enough to not keep repeating the same mistakes. I call many truck drivers friends and I will not name any names but I constantly hear stories of falsified logs that are supposed to record hours of sleep vs hours of driving for the sake of safety. But in the pursuit of a healthy wage and human error, accidents happen and lives are lost. I wish I could count on one hand how many times I have been in near accidents because a truck (like an over-sized bully) comes barreling down the road narrowly avoiding a collision. Or the truck driver that uses his bulk to intimidate the driver in front of him by riding very close to the rear, and in the next breath you hear, "trucks can't stop on a dime". GRRRRR! I've been the car in front and praying for a way to escape when I look in my mirror and see nothing but truck because he is sooo close. Ever been there? 

Runaway Train - Blue Rodeo

My favourite band playing tribute to the train and to Thunder Bay. Three of my favourite things brought together. 

A NEW BUSINESS MODEL?

Here's the thing, in 1960 trains first began piggybacking highway trailers on flatbeds. They could be stacked two high as containers, or wheeled on as trailers. The energy expended to transport many of them would be less than the litres of diesel used by each individual semi. The cost of fuel, the cost to maintain the vehicle, the roads, the drivers' wages and the cost of human life, it's just not worth it! In the past month/year how many fatal accidents have you heard of involving a transport truck? How many fatal accidents have you heard of involving a train? Why can't we get rid of the trucks on the road and put them on trains. Then smaller trucks can be used to access areas of cities once they arrive. Yes, jobs will be lost in the trucking industry but will be created in the railroad industry. Win/win. 

But no, it seems the exact opposite is happening. In Australia, road trains are becoming the norm. They are 3 or 4 trailers pulled by one truck. In Canada, two trailers are becoming common in larger metropolitan centres (more traffic, more danger, yeah that makes sense) but we don't call them road trains. No, here you might see LCV or ELV or EEMV posted on the back of a truck as a fair warning if you are thinking of passing the beast of the road. But consider the non-threatening names we bestow on them:

Australian Truck Train

LCV - Long Combination Vehicle (I agree they are long) 

ELV - Extended Length Vehicle (like an sedan towing a camper?)

EEMV - Energy Efficient Motor Vehicle (so towing consumes less gas?)

These monstrosities aren't making our roads safer. They are making more money, quicker for corporate America. At some point people and the planet have to come before the amassing of the almighty dollar. Put the cargo back on the rails. The rails that were designed and built to move the goods. Lives will be saved. The environment is healthier without the spewing of diesel fumes from so many trucks on the roads. Costs for delivery would be cheaper (3 train engines can pull a lot of rail cars) and more communities would have service. Parcel delivery companies could have rolling offices on the rails like the mail cars of days gone by where sorting was done en route. Subways are safer and more reliable than street level buses. Doesn't anyone else see the relationship?

AND NOW WHAT?

The Canadian - My Dream Trip!

So I am a dreamer, but what should be our greatest triumph is being dismantled before our eyes and the process will cost many more lives in its aftermath than it ever took to build. Despite my checkered past with the railroad industry, I love trains. There is a romanticism about clickity-clack rocking motion of a train. The dedicated passenger train service VIA rail began to share the tracks in 1977 and it was shortly thereafter that I took my first train ride. My very European and old-school grandmother was aghast. She recalled the uncomfortable wooden seat in the crowded cars of the old country. Not a pleasant means of travel. I found the opposite. Luxuriously comfortable seats with plenty of leg room, time to get to know my seatmates. Enjoying meeting people in the bar car or during a meal in the dining car. Just wandering the aisles of the cars and looking out of the expansive windows as the great Canadian landscape lumbered past. New found friends met for social time and camaraderie in the dome car in the dead of the night looking at the stars pass above. 

But its going the way of the horse and buggy. Nobody has the time for the leisurely travel of a train adventure. They want to jet off to places surrounded by water far south of Canada. On Friday, September 28th 2012 the last journey of the Ontario Northlander rolled out of Union Station in Toronto to the community of Moosonee. There wasn't much fan-fare, not much more than a quick blurb on the local newscast and not even a word in the National Post newspaper. How sad!

It's an attitude thing. In North America we have the rails but not the time to appreciate them and use them. In Europe the rail is embraced and steps are taken to get the people on them and off the roads. Like cargo should be. With the Northlander it goes even further. The have and have not attitude between Northern Ontario and the prosperous growth of Southern Ontario. Bullying seems to permeate here as well. In the GTA (Greater Toronto Area) the subway system is reaching its tentacles further inland, the commuter GO train is expanding service to more outlying suburbs with greater frequency. But 300 kilometres away the ill-serviced highways are becoming more clogged with trucks and buses to accommodate the stranded and forgotten of the Northland. 

R.I.P. Northlander :(

credit where credit is due:

The Silent Spikes: Chinese Laborers and the Construction of North American Railroads by Annian Huang

Building the Canadian Railway www.viarail.ca