The Christmas Commute

The holidays can always be a little hectic. Tourists are out and about, shoppers are everywhere, and the crazies are all up in your face. Every time a year begins to come to its close, there is a resurgence of persons who all want you to "repent you sins" or "prepare to meet your god" because "the end is near."

They're in the subway stations, blocking exits. They're on the trains, yelling in your ears. And they're on the streets, causing roadblocks. And yet, as Mr. Bennett would say, I am unmoved.  Whether it's Catholic propaganda or weird religious cult propaganda or just crazy people propaganda, you're not gonna sell me on it. I don't know what it is about opening a new calendar that scares the crap out of these people, but they are convinced that the world will end when that clock strikes midnight, and that judgement day is upon us. I've got news for ya, pal: I'm already judging you. And I'm mentally hosing you down the sidewalk ahead of me to clear myself a path between the already superfluous tourists.

A lot of these folks wear weird costumey attire that they seem to claim is religious (I exclude the guy wearing the pharaohesque headgear in Times Square - he's trying to sell tickets to the Tut exhibit, not tickets to heaven. Maybe I judge these crazy people a little too harshly. Perhaps I should see them as really wonderful people who are just trying to save my immortal soul from the fiery depths of Hell. And maybe if my belief system involved a patriarchal male chauvinistic world view in which hatred is bad but hatred of that which is not papally approved is not bad, and in which autonomy is overruled by an equally patriarchal heavenly monarchy that will someday pass down judgment from on high, giving pie in the sky to some and hellish torture in some invisible place to others...then yeah, maybe I would appreciate that. Unfortunately for these would-be prophets, I think they're mostly bat-shit crazy and some are even quite scary in their lecturing. Especially in the confines of a closed train car.

Fortunately for me, I usually manage to get out of the city for Christmas. Florida, for the most part, is cool and calm and I have no need to fear being trapped in an enclosed space with a scary preacherman. But the airports are another thing. For one, when you travel alone, you have no idea who you're going to end up sitting next to. I'm usually very lucky in my lot, and can sleep through any on-plane insanity. But getting TO and then THROUGH the airport is another mess entirely. Not so many prophets and preachers, but this time of year there are a LOT of families and I have to wonder if these groups of loose resemblance are stupid, or perhaps have just never flown in the last 9.5 years since 9/11.

Fact: When you go through security, you must remove your shoes and place them in a bin and send 'em on through via the conveyor belt.
Fact: Most TSA agents will also ask that you remove sweaters, sweatshirts, hoodies, jackets, coats, hats, etc.
Fact: If you're carrying a laptop computer (or, nowadays, an ipad or ebook reader) you must place it in a bin by itself and place that on the conveyor belt.
Fact: the TSA now has restrictions on the amount of liquid you can bring through security (this includes NO SNOWGLOBES).

All of these facts are clearly stated on the TSA website, and on your airport's website (here, JFK International). Even if you're coming from another country (let's say you're from Mexico and you're flying on Aeromexico) you can check your airline's website in your own language and (in the case of Aeromexico) there are links for Qué puedes llevar and Artículos Restringidos. (For the record, you can access Aeromexico's site in English, Spanish (Mexico), French, Spanish (Spain), Japanese and Chinese).

With all of these resources, you would think a family of four would be prepared. Not. I get it....kids can be difficult. What I don't get is the parents who just ignore the rules entirely. Meanwhile, there I stand behind them in line: pushing my boots along the ground in my socked feet, jacket and sweater sitting somewhere around my elbows in preparation for being pulled off completely, scarf and gloves and cell phone and ipod all tucked into my purse, and laptop in-hand, ready to be tossed into a bin of its own.

MCO (Orlando International Airport, formerly McCoy Airforce Base...or something. I don't know. Read the Wikipedia article), when it's not as busy, has separate lines for different types of travelers i.e. your single business person who has a laptop bag and a jacket, then your family group, then a separate line for those needing special assistance. JFK has no such thing. Everyone is lumped into the same line, even if I'm ready before the 8 families in front of me. Not fun.


But less fun than an airport security line is Times Square the day before New Year's Eve. I returned to New York on Tuesday (on a VERY delayed flight, with bruises in my side thanks to the bitch I sat next to...sometimes my lot isn't so good) and today I decided to walk from my office on 39th street to the American Eagle store in Times Square, at 46th street. The seven-block walk took me 25 minutes thanks to the crowds.

Part of the issue was the leftover snow. Times Square employees were working to clear the curbs of mountains of snow, which forced the majority of the pedestrian traffic to bottleneck in the worst places. A second issue was The Naked Cowboy who, on this not too terribly cold day, was out and about doing his thing, creating a massive crowd on one corner that did not need more people standing there. I love me some Naked Cowboy, and I hope he got a lot of tips today, but it was kind of the last thing I needed. A final issue was the set-up for the NYE festivities. Since the midsection of Times Square was blocked with barricades and platforms, there was less space for people to be meandering around.

But far and above all of these perfectly natural causes was the stupidity of the people around me. I'm sure that I'm being harsh and that they're not all "STUPID" but I take pride in my ability to navigate a crowd, to forge a path, and to keep walking. I could not have moved faster through this crowd unless I had killed at least 6 people. Namely, the family of actually stupid women who were in front of me a good part of the time, who seemed completely oblivious to every other person around them, and who felt that, in the middle of the block, between a wall and a newsstand, where the bottlenecking crowd was tight, and where children were likely to get trampled, that RIGHT THERE was a good spot to stop, consult a map, turn around, and take pictures of the unlit ball currently awaiting its midnight fall.

I don't know where these people come from, but I'm officially boycotting Times Square until at least April. I just can't do it. On the walk back to the office, a similar group of assumed morons stopped in the middle of 42nd street (and I mean in the middle of the street) to take similar pictures. Is there no end to this commuter's nightmares?