Commuter Diary: ​“Jihad Jane” Lookalike Slips By

Unlucky weather Monday morning had Lisa Hodermarsky hearing about a queen instead of enjoying the ​“unplugged- ness” of scooter-ing to work.

Kica Matos had luck, on the other hand — she may have ended up in the less-plush train to New York, but she didn’t get stopped this time for a random search.

Matos and Hodermarsky are among the New Haven commuters keeping diaries this week of their travels to and from the city for work — whether by car, by train, by bus, or on two wheels.

The threat of rain didn’t keep Michael Sernyak, who runs Connecticut Mental Health Center, off his bike as he commuted to New Haven from Branford this morning. ​“Had some extra time, so I took the 40-mile route through Durham,” he reported. ​“A little cool, but it reminds you how beautiful the area is, especially now that we are approaching summer. For some reason, there were a lot of turkeys (real ones, not bad drivers) out on the roads this morning.”

Lori Mack made it driving from from Branford’s Short Beach to New Haven’s Audubon Street, where she works as a producer for WNPR’s Faith Middleton Show, in 17 minutes. She left home at 7:20 a.m. ​“Traffic slowed a bit as I was getting on 95 [in East Haven], but my fellow commuters seemed to have the ​‘let’s get this done’ attitude, as most people respectfully allowed others to merge into traffic keeping the flow moving,” Mack reported.

Read on for the entries of three other commuters. Stay tuned for more entries this week; feel free to post your own daily experiences below in the comments section.

Unplugged Anonymity Yields To NPR

By Lisa Hodermarsky

Hodermarsky commutes from Westville to the Yale Art Gallery on a yellow motorized 50cc 2004 Honda Metropolitan scooter.

For as many months as the weather will permit (typically mid-April through mid-November) I commute back and forth to work by scooter. I began to scooter for ecological and economic reasons — and because I have always felt vulnerable on a bicycle during rush hours. But let’s face it, New Haven is a very unfriendly city to anything on two wheels, so one has to be ever vigilant on a two-wheeler, whether it uses motor power or peddle power.

This morning, however, due to the rainy weather report (and due to the fact that I had a lot of books to bring to work), I drove the car in, radio blaring some inane news about the Queen’s diamond jubilee. (Lamentably, this has become typical NPR fare.) Perhaps because I have been charged with keeping this diary all week, I immediately realized one of the reasons why I so adore riding a scooter: for that few precious minutes revel in the ​“unplugged-ness” of the commute. No irritating radio, no ringing cell phone, no person or pet yammering away — just my own thoughts.

And I recognize that, morning and evening, I ADORE this time alone. I crave it, look forward to it. And it’s curious, of course, because one is not alone on a scooter — one is completely exposed! It’s akin, perhaps, to commuting by subway — the feeling of being anonymous and completely within one’s own internal world despite being so public. So, I am missing that today. 

Checkpoint Cleared

By Kica Matos

Matos commutes to New York from her home in Fair Haven.

After a slow morning, I get to the station at 6:40, in no mood to try to make a run for the 6:42. I stroll to the platform and am faced with the first decision of the day – catch the 6:49 or the 6:55?

The 6:49 train this morning is one of the new ones, which offers an outlet, comfortable seats, clean bathrooms and a smooth ride. It also gets into Grand Central Terminal (GCT) 7 minutes later than the 6:55, which is the express train.

Sadly, the express train this morning is an old tired one, with slippery, saggy pleather seats, stinky bathrooms and the offer of a bumpy ride. For a commuter, 7 minutes is a long time, so I opt for the express train.

As I settle in and turn on my laptop, I realize that today marks the third anniversary of my commute to NYC. Three days of the week, I travel to my job in NYC; a commute that takes approximately five hours and three trains. ​“Character building” is the only way that I can describe this.

The morning ride today is much like many others – quiet and uneventful. Commuters this early in the day usually opt for one of three things: sleeping, reading the papers or working. Very little chatter happens this early. and cell phone use usually elicits groans and eye rolls (and sometimes reprimands if the person is talking too loudly).

The commuter next to me is very pregnant, and as she listens to her i‑Pod she periodically rubs her belly. The train fills up at the Fairfield station; a few travelers are forced to stand for the duration of the trip.

Once at GCT, I race to get the cross-town shuttle. My heart sinks as I start descending the stairs – at the bottom is one of NYPD’s finest, standing with her hands on her hips, selecting commuters who will be subjected to bag searches.

To the right of her are the tables where officers are set up, busily peering inside bags.

I brace myself because I have been a lucky ​“winner” on the last two occasions that the police have conducted searches at GCT in the mornings. (It must be my startling resemblance to Jihad Jane.) Miraculously, I am not picked.

The tunnel on the way to the shuttle has two musicians this morning: a woman with a beautiful voice who is singing religious music; and an older gentleman at the end wearing a crown, playing his guitar and singing.

Two subway rides, later, I arrive at work. The commute – from start to finish — took two hours and 29 minutes. I left my house at 6:30 this morning, and got to work at 8:59. Not bad.

A Favor On The J

By Trip Kirkpatrick

Trip Kirkpatrick usually takes the J bus from Hamden’s Spring Glen neighborhood to a job at Yale as an instructional technologist.

The only other thing worth a remark this morning — and that’s an arguable description — was that the driver let someone out at a spot that was not a formal stop.

I’ve been granted this privilege before, but I can’t tell quite when any given driver will do it. My guess is this is against CT Transit policy, and it’s uncommon in my experience, but it does happen.

It makes one long for a trolley that can be hopped off whenever the vehicle slows down enough to permit it.

My commute has gotten so routine that the smallest things are only the ones of notice. For example, I changed where I stood while waiting for the bus so that anyone walking up my street could see me waiting and also could see if I got on the bus. Useful information transmission, perhaps.

For the first time in a while, I had a chance to do some professional reading during the commute, but I did note that one regular rider sat somewhere different than he usually does. In my time using the bus and in previous time commuting in to New York on Metro-North (ugh — don’t do
it!) I’ve thought that the habits we picked up as bus riders in school (if we were such) never seem to go away.

We sit in the same seat when possible, or at least the same basic area. Sometimes someone new or feisty sits in our seat and we have to move around a bit. This can throw us off and certainly makes the other regulars notice. Perhaps this happens more on the less-crowded transits, which are usually mine. On the more-crowded transits, it’s harder for anyone except those who get on at the head of the line to be in the same place every time.