I Saw Angel's Flight In Motion...

Having gone upstairs from the Pershing Square station by a different escalator, I saw the little railway car moving. I didn't know which car it was I saw, and I could not remember which car had crashed years back. At this moment that knowledge seemed important. The cars are called Sinai and Olivet, I could remember that easily enough.

So of course I scamper over with a cry of joyful surprise, seeing finally two cars moving--it is a funicular railway after all--and they stop in the middle of the tracks, side by side on the double-tracked part. I am suspecting the somewhat eccentric people sitting around in the sun are used to these outbursts by visitors. I run over to the gate, already planning the page in my journal where I would glue down my ticket stub from having finally, finally ridden Angel's Flight again. Would they still be selling the packet of five tickets? The cyclone fence still blocked the sturdy old orange and brown gate. The sign on it still gave no indication of when Angel's Flight would open again. A place to donate money toward it was listed. I did not care, my heart still rejoiced to see Angel's Flight in motion. I'll ride it again someday.

Years ago one of the cars crashed, I believe killing a passenger (the second fatality in all its history, which is a long one.) This was due, as I recall, to faulty maintenance and faulty inspection. But I could be remembering this incorrectly.

This little dab of rail helped people scale the short steep hill from Hill St to Olive, and was, I believe, the most heavily used piece of track in the world, due to its short length and long long history. It stands about half a block down from its original location, as I recall. I used to love riding it. As I recall it now, you could buy a slip of five tickets for a dollar, single rides 25 cents, and from gate to gate, I don't think the ride took more than five minutes, if even that long. The cars were all stairs and brass rails and windows, and wood that rattled--pleasantly then--as I sat and watched the centuries meet, the last century (?) meeting the current one. It was so much more enjoyable than an elevator.

Time, technology, Who-knows-what; I don't know what is holding up the reopening of Angel's Flight but I hope it opens soon.

Technology and Dreams

So the last time we were at the Magic Castle, we ended up closing the place so thoroughly that the kindly host Kurt walked out with us. Part of why we were so late was that we were chatting with a fellow member, who was showing us one of the more modern methods for doing close up levitations.

It was lovely in its design and I was entirely delighted by the effect. Having looked into both Steinmeyer and Tarbell, I had what could be some sense of what the technological advances were, being shown before me. (I can be described with no greater accuracy possible than as a "sophomore" when it comes to my understanding of magic.) From The Levitation of Princess Karnak to the ring floating before me was a journey. Even what Tarbell says about smaller levitations was said without the benefits of modern technologies improvements upon the elements involved in making the trick happen.

This is a small example of how technology can work really well, but I want to point it out. Yes, everything is connected, and there may be implications for the environment and world economy that I am not aware of in the improved materials, but unlike some other advances, this one serves only to increase wonder and delight.

Airship Dream

Last Saturday the beloved and I were keeping our usual hours at The Press (a restaurant in Claremont. That's what people did before phones, "keep hours" in public places) when a fellow at the bar was telling us, that in west Texas, the little abandoned railroad towns are being revived by artists and other likely characters. Some place just big enough to have a post office will have three art galleries. Suddenly I was dazzled by the very idea of captaining an airship for commuter travel between them all. (And some freight too, sure.) The beloved brought up airship rides over the Grand Canyon. Yum!

Well what did I dream of Saturday night but of being an airship captain running a commuter line among little towns abandoned by the railroads! I don't think it was west Texas, it was too green. I had great fun in the dream, sipping coffee from a mug as I stood at the wheel, like an old sailing ship's wheel, like old airships had. The sun shown gently, the breeze was fresh. People moved back and forth between towns and we were all happy to see each other. I hope I dream of that again.