On a Train to Springfield

Leather seats and complimentary coffee. Privacy. A full recliner WITH leg rest? I didn't pay enough for this.

There was a shooting last night a block from where I was partying. I was introduced to restaurant owners and young (and old) entrepreneurs while our youth were terrorizing St Louis' nicest, most eclectic sector. I was learning the intricacies of Thai fusion cuisine while young black men were rioting and shooting each other. A week ago I wondered why Anthony Bourdain doesn't come here. Now I don't care. We don't deserve it. What are our local governments doing to enrich our youth and escalate this city out of mental and financial poverty?

A stack of buckets full of railroad spikes. A cute blonde with a bright red messenger bag walking alone across a field taking large steps over railroad tracks - looking nervously behind her multiple times. Graffiti says "MOOSE CROSSiNG" leaving the i lower cased. It accentuates the ignorance of the tagger, killing all chances of humor.

The Amtrak brochure uses a curly cue font. A sickeningly familiar, recognizable stock font goes straight to a designers gut. Amateurs.

The conductor is going crazy with the train horn. Do you think we'd even feel a cow or anything smaller? Thousands of tons of steel hurling at 80 mph. I'm thinking no.