On my recent train trip, for the first time, I sat in the cafe car and people-watched. All kinds of folks coming and going, sitting a bit eating overpriced snacks or taking them back to their undersized seats. Having set up housekeeping next to the window in my booth, I wrapped up in a sweater, wishing I had worn socks with my holey Crocs and cradled a hot cup of coffee between my palms…mmm. Headphones pretty much render one invisible as a target for conversation, so I was safe. Ironically, the conductor seated a blind man across from me, but as it turned out, he was more interested in eating than talking. So, with CSN&Y wafting through my ear buds…Old man sittin’ by the side of the road…I looked across the way and noticed this man.

He was definitely the most interesting looking person on the train. A little out of place amongst the iPods and Izods and yes, in this economy, even the Izods are taking the train. Dressed in a cotton caftan and looking rather exotic—I didn’t intend to stereotype, but apparently did—I imagined that he might be from a foreign land and that his shawl and crocheted cap were of homespun wool. Well, I was a little disheartened to see plastic sequins sewn into his beanie, and when he spoke, he sounded as if he could have been from any one of the small towns in which the train stopped. Still, he was the most interesting looking person on the train, and it was funny to see that another crocheted cap happened to join him.

The highlight of the trip out of town, I’m afraid.

And by the way, Strangers on a Train is an excellent Hitchcock flick, although I may have lost credibility in the movie department when I pushed Spencer’s Mountain. I know, sappy.