Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)
Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.
This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.
Friday, December 19, 2003
(I mean, aside from trying to figure out what's wrong with Blogger the past few days.)
What I was wondering was, where have all the railroad bulls gone?
This thought occurred to me last night as I was waiting on a slow-moving freight to clear the crossing down at the foot of the hill from my house. I have noticed for some time now the explosion of graffiti on rolling stock--not just a simple tag or two--but huge, elaborate murals that obviously took a lot of time and effort to produce. Folks have been marking on cars for as long as they've been around, but it seems in the last 10 or 15 years it has gotten all out of hand. Even the model railroad crowd is in on the trend, and several companies even have graffiti decals to make their tiny boxcars and gondolas more authentic looking.
Maybe I'm more sensitive to this since Birmingham has such a long rail history, but I know that at one time railroad police were greatly feared for their foul temper, as well as the fact that they were pretty much a law to themselves. A dim view was taken of such shenanigans--I did a lot of stupid stuff when I was young, but I sure enough knew better not to get caught anywhere near a rail yard, much less with a box full of spray paint cans.
I looked at the CSX website and couldn't find anything about such activities; Norfolk-Southern was a bit better, with one article about trespassing and a link to their police department, and a short history of railroad police. Maybe they figure the less said about it the better.
Anyway, the train finally stopped dead on the track, so I had to turn around and go around the long way.
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