Turning Up

Surely introverts are not the only ones who approach group activity with a mixture of anxiety and disdain.  But they are probably more practiced and, therefore, the best at it.  To me, the construction, improvement, funding and general proliferation of trains is a sacred cause.  What else could get me to attend, that is to say, actually appear, at a meeting of the California Rail Political Action Committee?  Trust me, nothing.  Not guilt or even substantial bribery.  I don't like meetings.

But there I was, and if some of the details made my brain glaze over, the gist was often quite buoying.  Things kicked off with a talk by a regional transit figure, long out of management and politics, but consistently active in a think-tank way.  He's now on the board of the California High-Speed Rail Project, and damned if the thing isn't looking kind of real.  Here, on a provincial level, it's very hard to tell.  That's partly because California hasn't built a major new rail line in the better part of a century.  Political leaders are flying on instruments when they support the project.  As for those at the helm, the whole thing seemed encouraging.

I didn't know that the project management has built in regular consultation with French engineers.  Also, it must be acknowledged, Italian ones.  The scariest prospect: California trying to build such a railway on its own.  We gave up on passenger rail construction over 70 years ago, began abandoning rail operations 50 years ago.  And there's no catching up.  Which everyone understands, I was pleased to see.  Amazing.  A new railway...fast enough to make a difference...and, possibly, in my lifetime.

The other speaker runs one of the state's regional passenger lines.  He has run it awfully well.  Thanks to him, and people like him, California has set a national standard for...how shall one say...building a passenger railway out of nothing?  All quite amazing, heartening, and an excellent reason not to be at home on a Saturday.  Still, home was exerting a considerable pull.  I had come to this meeting by request, and there was a mission to fulfill.  But, for better or worse, after two hours of stirring railway discussion, I bolted.  Heading home to something else.  This blog, for example.  Dinner with a friend.  Maybe a quiet moment with a book.

Right or wrong?  Did I do a good thing or a bad thing?  With the Marlou vacuum in my life, grief aside, I feel an increasing need to be part of something bigger than myself, a cause, even a group.  And the railroad folks are splendid.  Just the sort of thing that might be my sort of thing...unless it's the sort of thing that involves people and meetings.  And then I am not so sure.  

The railway group has a newsletter, and the newsletter, a friend assured me, needs a writer.  So, how could I dip a toe in this endeavor without immersing my entire leg?  The problem is that newsletters have a way of appearing at regular intervals.  That is, they entail a commitment.  And so what?  Commitment being closely allied with involvement.  Thing is, this can drift perilously close to entanglement.

The newsletter needs more than submissions.  It needs to be dynamited, bulldozed, and once thoroughly razed, re-architected and reconstructed.  I find it hard to look at the thing.  I always balk at the word 'lame,' but no other term seems sufficient.  There is no news about this newsletter.  The photos might not make it into a child's album.  The intent and strategic purpose elude me.  It's bad.

So, I had thought of an alternative.  I would write occasional op-ed pieces in support of the Coast Starlight, the overnight Amtrak train that frequently captivates, and certainly captures, me at regular intervals.  Then, once published in some newspaper or newsy website, republish pieces in the newsletter.

In this way, I could steer a course around any awkward discussions with the editor.  Although such discussions are badly needed, I don't seem to have the energy.  Or the commitment.  Or, disappointingly, the involvement.  Which was the whole idea, wasn't it?  Which brings me in a circular fashion back to the introvert's dilemma.  To be...involved...or not to be?

Problem is, this can be said of anything.  As I was rolling out of today's meeting, leaving early to return to my current life, I noticed something on a display table.  Several rail groups had provided their own newsletters and brochures.  Caltrain has produced a glossy piece on the virtues of electrification.  Which, by the way, I support in every dimension.  I would gladly donate, even electrify, several liters of my own blood, if this would get things moving.  Never mind.  Among the brochures was a small information sheet from a group supporting the Coast Starlight.  If I had just stayed a bit longer, I might have met some of these people, and that might have been good, a connection with like minded humans.  But, no, I skipped out the door.  And whether I missed out...or got out just in time.  Well, only time will tell.  Meanwhile, there will be other meetings.  And what's important, as Woody Allen says, is to keep turning up.