Willy on the MBTA
LET’SROLL
• Would he be afraid of how big and loud the train would be? (He’s also going through a “Too loud, Dada” phase.)
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• And the biggest question of all, where exactly was the train taking us? He waited patiently in the shelter on the ramp and was in awe when the train finally rolled up. Not an “I-just-won-thelottery-on-a-Red-Sox-scratch-ticket” face. More like how people react when entering Fenway Park the first time: eyes wide with amazement, magic, respect. We climbed aboard and headed east. My ticket was $2.50 and his was free – but he hung on to it like I would a thousand dollar bill as he watched the world scan by from his window seat. The conductors seemed excited to have a first-time rider in their car. You could almost see them reflecting for a half-second about their first ticket and how far they’d come since. I called a friend from the train to see if there was anything we could do indoors at the Lincoln stop. Indeed, the Whistlestop Café – a place Will and I had been to last summer – was there. We chugged into the West Concord stop, near where I worked for half of my decade-long journalism career before becoming a stay-at-home dad in August. Then we pulled into the Concord station, not far from where Will was born within 24 hours of President Obama’s inauguration. And then, finally, about 20 minutes after our ride began, we
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emember how those cuddly, adorable Mogwai turned into nasty Gremlins if exposed to daylight? My son’s ugly switch turns on under opposite conditions: being cooped up inside for more than three hours at a time. So when we awoke to a bitter rain on a recent Monday morning, I knew trouble could be ahead from my almost 2-yearold Gizmo if I didn’t think of something to get us out of the house. Mondays are already tricky as a stay-athome parent. Many museums are closed. Libraries don’t hold any sing-alongs or story times on the first day of the week. And there are only so many times you can tour Petco if you’re not a pet owner. Adding rain into the mix rules out hikes, playgrounds, farms, and even just kicking a ball around the yard. But like many tots, my little guy is totally into trains, though he had never been on one. Edaville Railroad in Carver wasn’t open. The Cape Cod Central (Scenic) Railroad is definitely not within striking distance. The EcoTarium in Worcester has a little train, but they’re closed on Mondays. By 8:30 in the morning, my little monster was starting to turn green. What about the MBTA commuter rail? The Fitchburg line is not far away. I 10 MARCH2011
• Would we miss our ride back and have to wait past lunchtime, and, more important, through sacred naptime, for another?
had never been on it, but the online schedule said there was a train leaving South Acton at 9:26 a.m. And by the next one, Will would be ready to pass out. I wasn’t sure we could make it. My son is going through an “I-don’t-like-towear-pants” phase that can take a half hour to defeat. Acton is 25 minutes away, plus another 10 minutes to find somewhere to park legally. We had about 15 minutes to get dressed, eat breakfast, and rush out the door without forgetting critical components like a wallet, cell phone, drinks and plenty of survival food (crackers). It didn’t take long for the first shoe – actually a glass bottle of water – to drop. While backing out of our driveway, I heard a smash and realized I would be the thirsty one on the expedition. I had left my drink on top of the Subaru – a cardinal sin in my family because of my history with rooftop forgetfulness. As a daily strategy, I get my opinionated little guy to cooperate by dissecting his growing mind. What could I tell him to keep him from crying the whole ride somewhere? “Will, we’re going to ride the choo choo train.” His jaw droped like Kevin McAllister in Home Alone when he put the aftershave on. “Ride the choo choo train, Dada,” was the refrain heard the rest of the way there. But after that expectation had
“...MY FIRST TRAIN RIDE WITH MY SON. AND YOU CAN’T PUT A PRICE TAG ON THAT.” been planted, the adventure took on higher stakes. • Would we make it to the station in time? • How soaked would we get on the walk there? • Would my car get towed if I parked in an unmarked dirt spot?
arrived in the tiny enclave of Lincoln. The Whistlestop Café is great for two reasons: It sells chocolate muffins (or what Will thinks is cake) and it has various plastic animals to play with. Our stay was brief, under a half hour, but warm, dry, and delicious. Soon we found ourselves on an empty platform in near sleet, pacing, singing songs, praying that the train would