Moving During The You-Know-What

 I'm not going to use the p-word even when I'm writing about the p-word because I'd like to keep this quiet little corner of the G-word's part of the web that I live in rent-free.  But this is a post about life during the p-word. 

I miss the subway.  Those links on the "the" and "subway" are to things I wrote about it over ten years ago.  I haven't been on the subway since early March 2020 and most likely won't be on the subway for several more months which makes this the longest subway-free stretch of my life since I started college in the mid 1980's.  Those subways were different than the ones I was riding last year but I'll neither wax nostalgic nor cast aspersions on the past here.  Some things were better, some things were worse.  The city changes when you are and when you aren't looking.  

Some things will never be back.  Thanks to the location of the new Yankee Stadium I'll never have the experience of first bursting out of a tunnel and into the daylight and then catching those quick glimpses of the field through the spaces in the outfield side of the stadium as the 4 train curved into the station.  I'm glad I had that experience a lot.  

I wish I had stayed on the 6 train and circled back through the old City Hall station back in pre paranoid (read post-9/11) times when freedom of movement was more of  "a thing" in the city and even if confronted I could've claimed that I fell asleep on the train and only woke up when the doors closed.  Then again, post-you-know-what will probably have budget cuts so maybe the trains will be unchecked again so the free trip into history might be possible again.  

History.  I can't help but feeling I'm missing out on history by not attempting a subway ride "in these times" as the dopey cliche goes.  Were I younger, or healthier, or not living with the primary caretaker of a pair of octogenarians it might be different, but during the you-know-what shared responsibility is even more paramount than personal responsibility though many (most?) Americans don't act like it is.  The exploration of how this country's me-firstism will be its downfall is a topic too serious for this little room and frankly over my head anyway.  Suffice it to say the feeling of nostalgia for a shared ride speaks for itself.