Wrong Side of the Train Tracks

Where’s my white picket fence?

We finally achieved the American dream for the second time, by purchasing our second home. It is big enough for my kids to each have their own rooms, and for me to have a big TV, maybe another one soon. To me, the TV is the American Dream. It doesn’t have much of a yard, but I don’t have to take care of it either, because HOA. It doesn’t have a white picket fence, which is fine because I would prefer a purple one anyway. It is by a golf course, but I don’t care about golf.

The one problem might be that we live on the wrong side of the train tracks. I knew that was an expression that meant the seedy side of town. While I don’t think we do, I know understand why it might have been given that term.

Let me explain by telling you about something that happened yesterday.

My son plays football, and for some reason the practice like every single day. Who has time for that? Yesterday, I was in charge of taking him there, because my wife had other things. Practice is only about 10 minutes away, but we have to cross two sets of train tracks to get there. I barely thought trains existed anymore, so I didn’t think it would be a problem to get there.

Just waiting for the train.

As the king of bad timing, I got there right when the “old” train tracks had a train. This is the one carrys all the coal, and cassette tapes, and VHS recorders and Nokia cell phones and is essentially a Back to the Future train. There is all this really inventive graffiti and about 50,000 cars attached. It’s very unpredictable and could take 40 minutes for it to cross your path. I think I saw a young Micheal J. Fox and Christopher Lloyd making an 80’s run on the train.

It finally passed, and we got him to practice just barely on time.

I headed home, blaring some crappy Drake song on my way home, ready for some rest and TV before we would have to get him later. It took the same path home because it is the shorter way to practice, and I get back to the tracks and guess what I see. The red flashing lights, the lowering of the RR crossing gates, and the ding, ding, ding.

The other modern, sleek passenger train that drives commuters back and forth to the city and to the future, is ready to cross. This one only has three cars, is as fast as a speeding bullet and is predictible as a Rolex watch. It sucks that I have the world’s worst timing, but at least I know it will be over soon. I see people on the train that are wearing self-lacing Nike’s, hoverboards, and flying cars in their pockets.

They were all wearing self lacing Nike’s.

Meanwhile, I’m stuck in the crappy present on the wrong side of the tracks, always waiting on the past train to slowly cross, and wishing I could on the future train, but realizing that I’m way too slow for that one.

ARRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH

Bitter Side of the Tracks Ben