To all of y’all complaining about my (GASP) shoes…
and the footprint this photo was really about…
and the footprint this photo was really about…
I’ve had a low level obsession with trains for most of my life.
So it’s not surprising that, as I make my living as a photographer, I’m always honored and all too willing to share when Amtrak wants to share a photo of mine on their feed.
But this time, well, it didn’t go as planned.
I guess I should’ve known.
The enthusiastic inhabitants of the interwebs, clearly not having enough things to complain about this summer — this sweltering, forests-on-fire, smoke-filled-skies, politically-explosive, covid-spiking summer when people are even finding ways to berate the greatest gymnast of all time for standing up for her mental health — saw my post and jumped on it like a pack of wild animals on fresh raw meat. I’d unwittingly provided a brand new outlet for righteous rage. This time it was my shoes.
That’s right my shoes, ladies and gentlemen, were the latest source of ire to light up the cesspool of the comment section.
And on the day the Infrastructure Bill passed its first hurdle in the Senate, no less.
Now, when I first saw the outrage I won’t deny my cheeks flushed in rosy embarrassment. My goodness what was I thinking putting my shoes on the seat? Was I raised in a barn? I don’t even wear shoes inside my house for crying out loud. And I shared a picture of this offensive behavior… ON THE INTERNET?!
But then I remembered why I snapped the damning photo and offered it gleefully up to the internet in the first place.
You see, I was having a moment of unadulterated joy in one of my first-ever private roomettes aboard Amtrak. I sat in solitude listening to the click-clack of the tracks and inhaling… simple happiness. After a few moments, as is our modern tech-driven curse, my brain was hijacked by the impulse to share. I wanted to share the moment… the pleasant experience of stress-free traveling by train… the ample leg room I had in my private rolling nook of zen.
I placed my book in the composition (amazing book, by the way, fantastic, witty dialogue and great story) and stretched out my legs to demonstrate the abundance of space. I framed the photo without much of a thought to my shoes on the perpendicular edge of the exact seat I’d wipe off and later sleep on (I love my Hokas almost as much as I love Amtrak, and I’d never be caught dead photographing my bare, wide, hobbit feet).
I snapped the photo and posted it to my personal instagram story some 88 weeks ago. The evidence was entered back then into the hands of the judge and jury of the world wide web, where it lived quietly for almost two years bearing witness in my saved train stories to how great it is to travel by train.
Until I had to go re-sharing it on a new account about books…and Amtrak asked if they could re-share.
My friends tease me that I should be an ambassador for Amtrak. I love the unscripted time as a break from my overbooked calendar. I love the views. I love the fellow passengers and crew members I meet.
And I LOVE that I’m reducing my carbon footprint by choosing a train over a long distance car trip or an airplane.
Yes, I’m one of those tree-hugger types who places a high priority the impact of a cleaner mode-of-travel choice for the atmosphere, even if it means lengthier travel time.
If you’re here to discuss cleanliness (large scale) and — footprints — can we talk about carbon and the air quality in Denver lately? It’s often worse than Beijing in the 90’s. I’m doing my part to clean the atmosphere (or at least be less of a burden on it) by making choices like giving up my car, reducing energy and meat consumption, eliminating single-use plastic, and traveling long distances by train.
So yes, I took the photo because I’m obsessed with train travel and hope others will join me in this cleaner option for the survival of our species. I thought the photo was a great way to demonstrate just how spacious and comfortable it is to lessen your carbon footprint. Despite a possible teeny footprint on a durable seat which has, let’s face it, seen worse.
If you’ve never traveled by train and/or are still stuck on my shoes on that rugged train seat upholstery, here are a few more observations:
Long distance train travel is romantic. It’s full of chance meetings and sweeping vistas of the American landscape. But it is not speedy.
One does not choose long distance train travel (at least in the United States) on account of its cleanliness. Upon entry you’re hit with the acrid smell of the mechanics involved in hauling heavy machinery across the country. Occasionally with the added fragrance of body odor (shoeless feet!). I don’t know about you, but I’m not a fan of the smell of feet. Ew.
Long distance train travel is: long. If you’re in a coach seat there’s ample room to stretch (far more than a first class airplane seat), but you’ll still end up sleeping in all varieties of positions to get comfortable, including curled up somehow on your chair. This I can promise: legs will not stay neatly on the leg rest. You’re asleep. You can take off your shoes but for safety and sanitary reasons it’s also not always my first choice to do so. Also refer to reflections on stinky feet above.
Long distance trains are, therefore, not the venue in which to show off your white linens and finest attire. I know, you’re wishing it could be the Orient Express — I sometimes wish that, too. But this is America. And we love Amtrak for different reasons. I’ve always operated under the assumption that someone’s shoes were on my seat before me. And let’s face it, train seat upholstery is not cleaned to hospital standards. My suggestion: wear hearty denim and wash your clothes or save that set for the ride home.
If you’re lucky, you might save up and splurge on a roomette once in a while (or bid on an upgrade). It’s true a roomette isn’t usually cheaper than flying (coach seats often are), but you get a whole night in a bed and meals (truly great meals if you’re on a train which has moved back to full-service dining) are included in the price. AND… if/when you have this roomette to yourself, I double-dog-dare you not to put your feet on the seat in front of you. Seriously. The door is closed and it’s so incredibly comfortable that, especially if you’re used to cramping into plane seats, you might just shed an elated tear.
If Amtrak is listening, Amtrak slippers would be a cool piece of swag to add to your line-up. If you do, I’ll take a photo and share!
And a word to the wise: If you invest the time in a series of badgering posts to berate and mansplain at someone on their personal feed, be sure not to have an obvious photo of yourself doing the exact same thing on the very feed from which you’re conducting this public berating. Unless you’re actively trying to be an example of blazing hypocrisy. Yes, this actually happened today. I laughed so hard when a friend brought this to my attention that I had to wipe away real tears. A lot of them.
Oh, internet, thou art a strange place indeed. Land of Cyber, where everyone can be righteous… until it turns out, they aren’t.
To close a happier note, here are a few non-foot-related photos I’ve snapped while luxuriating in my love of train travel.
I love it so much I’ve even designed a book of train travel photos. It’s a self-published art book and printing is stupid expensive, but you’re welcome to page through it for free if you’re so inclined.
So trust me when I say, I meant no disrespect with the photo of my shoes on the seat. Please, dear comment sections of the interwebs, forgive me if I’ve offended thee.
From the bottom of my heart I say: HAPPY TRAIN TRAVELS!