“We could go in on the Orange Line.”
It was the eve of the July Fourth holiday, Dickie had an appointment with a client in Boston, I was going along under my old creative director’s hat, and neither of us wanted to cope with the city’s holiday exodus. Still, Dickie looked doubtful.
“Do you know how?” he asked me.
“The only tricky part is finding a parking space at Oak Grove. Provided we can do that, it’s simple.”
The single benefit of the pre-holiday hysteria was that a few souls were escaping even earlier than usual from Boston, and there actually was a space in the Oak Grove parking lot.
“What do we do now?” Dickie demanded.
“Now? Now I will introduce you to the miracle of the Charlie card.”
We made our way up the stairs, into the Oak Grove terminal and directly up to my friend the MBTA customer service rep. I pointed back at Dickie.
“This man needs a Charlie card.”
All customer service reps should be as good-humored and patient as the Pleasant Man of Oak Grove. Day after day he painstakingly teaches otherwise intelligent and productive human beings to use the simple, intuitive mechanics of the Charlie card vending machine. Dickie has a degree in electrical engineering from a very prestigious college and an advanced degree from a famous Boston institution of higher learning, but I noticed that he stumbled through the process, leaning heavily on the prompts of the jolly customer service rep.
Later, as we stood on the platform waiting for the train, Dickie held his new Charlie card in both hands and gazed at it with pride.
“Now I have a Charlie card,” he marveled.
“You’re a citizen,” I told him.
The train arrived and we glided aboard. Dickie was humming Charlie on the MTA.
“Do you remember Scollay Square?” he asked abruptly.
“Where Charlie handed in his dime?”
“I was dating a nurse from Beth Israel Hospital,” he reminisced, “and I got lost in Scollay Square on my way to pick her up.”
If you know approximately when they tore down Scollay Square, you’ll get the clue that Dickie wasn’t born yesterday. But here’s the thing about Dickie—even at his age he has an engaging enthusiasm and a fascination with new things that is childlike and therefore charming. He continued to marvel about his Charlie card all the way to State Street.
“I could do this any time,” he told me happily. “Just go to Oak Grove …”
“… provided there’s a parking space,” I amended.
“Yes, I’ll just find a parking space, and I’ll take my Charlie card … “A new thought struck him. “I’ll get one for Jean! Yes! We’ll both go into Boston for the day and walk around. Have lunch. What is it—a dollar seventy one way? Wow. For less than seven bucks we can have a day in Boston. Wow!”
I am reminded that Joseph Campbell counseled folks to follow their bliss, and as the train from Oak Grove bucketed along toward State Street and our appointment in the financial district, I considered how Dickie was unconsciously heeding Campbell’s advice. Here, with a brand new Charlie card in his wallet, he was following his bliss along the MBTA’s Orange Line.
Tags: Charlie card, follow your bliss, Joseph Campbell, MBTA, Orange Line, Scollay Square
Nancy
I feel honored that you made me a subject of your latest, and might I add very well done, blog.
I guess I am still following my bliss.
Dickie