Boston and New England by Train

Boston, MA USA

One of the things that find so fascinating about America is the huge amount of “We’re number ONE!” hubris. We owe much of our culture, our art and our way of life to the western thinkers of Europe. We are just a baby by comparison to the richness of history we owe our origins from.

I can see lots of this in New England as I travel I notice its very similar to the English countryside sans the cute accents and distinguishing signage, unique to the UK. By train you get to look outside and relax while enjoying the countryside, rocked to melodic sound of a rail trains continuous hum interrupted by the occasional train horn that can be heard for about 3 miles.

My brother once put a train horn on his truck. The law says that a car horn only has to be heard within 50 feet, but a train horn can be heard from three miles away. You can only imagine the mischief a boy like my brother can get into with such a devise mounted to his primary source of transportation. He revels in waiting for just the right kind of pissing contests boys can engage in while, seeing who’s truck is biggest--my sibling has to one-up them by adding such an accessory to male compensation device.

The thought of my brothers puerile insanity interrupted my tranquil trip, and smile and reflect on my own history and my place in it.