TAKE THE F TRAIN. THAT’S THE QUICKEST WAY TO GET TO THE UNDERWORLD

Back in the 1940’s, when dinosaurs roamed the Earth, there was a musician named Duke Ellington who led one of the greatest jazz bands of that era (or of any era, for that matter). At that time, each band had a signature song. For Duke Ellington, the song was “Take the A Train,” which recommended that particular subway route as the quickest way to get to Harlem (the one in New York City, not the one in the Netherlands – that’s Haarlem).

            The recommendation, Dear Reader, appears to be a sound one, and not only when you are heading uptown to 125th Street. What you do not want to do under any circumstances is take the F train, particularly during morning rush hour. Why? Because at 7:15 a.m. on a recent morning, fellow passengers on the northbound F train noticed a dead guy serenely sitting in one of the seats.

            The NYC gendarmes have not determined a cause of death for this poor fellow. However, the discovery raises an interesting question: how could they tell that the guy had croaked? Think about your own early morning commuting experiences. There you are in your almost somnambulant state, slumped in your seat on the shoulder of the passenger next to you, or hanging limply from the safety strap affixed to the ceiling of the subway car. How can anybody tell that YOU are not dead? Every passenger appears to be dead. So how did the other passengers decide to checkup on the vital state of this particular blob of flesh? I can only assume that he rolled onto the floor or committed some other act unusual for the time of day, it being well before the usual cocktail hour. But how did they tell that he was dead?

            Methods to determine if someone is alive or dead are numerous, but are generally considered bad form. The simplest, of course, is to poke the individual in question and say “Hey buddy, are you OK?” This generally elicits an informative response or non-response, as appropriate. There are, of course, more sophisticated alternatives. One of the best collections of such methods for determining animate vs. inanimate conditions is set forth in the opening scene of the classic film “Charade.” One is to hold a mirror in front of the individual’s gaping mouth. If the mirror fogs up, the individual is alive. My favorite is to stick the individual with a pin. If he or she shrieks and jumps out of the chair, he or she is alive. Unfortunately, if you use any of these methods, if the individual turns out not to have shuffled off this mortal coil, you run the severe risk in the current Victorian political climate of being accused of harassment, either immediately or thirty years later when you are attempting to run for President. Even worse, the object of your ad hoc vital signs test may punch you in the chops or stab you with a shiv.

            So stay off the F train.