Greenberg-2018

REAL railroad-track has only TWO rails, not three; them green gondolas are SPOTLESS; throw a real locomotive into curvature this tight at more than 5 mph, and it FLIES OFF THE TRACK. (iPhone photo by BobbaLew.)

“Ah, the pungent aroma of burning paraffin,” I said to my friend, a retired bus-driver like me.
Model-railroaders burn paraffin-wax in their model steam-locomotives to get smoke out of the stack. Of course, that smoke ain’t blasting, it’s only drifting.
We were attending the Greenberg model-train show near Rochester. My friend, like me, is a railfan, but mainly model trains. The gauge I prefer is not “O,” “S,” or “HO,” but four feet 8&1/2 inches, standard railroad track-gauge = the real thing.
“Yeah, but I can’t fit ‘the real thing’ in my basement.’”
A long model train chugged past pulled by a New York Central steam locomotive. New York Central is long-gone, but worth remembering. The train was perhaps 25-30 cars, not the 100+ I usually see with ‘the real thing.’ But at least not just five or six; about all our HO layout could pull per train years ago. That was my neighbor and I back in 1959. It was HIS layout, based on a book-based track-plan wedged into two 4-by-8 sheets of plywood laid out as an “L.”
We fiddled that layout a few years, but my neighbor graduated to go-karts.
I always wanted to do an HO layout myself, but never did. I drifted toward photographing the real thing.
The NYC steamer was making chugging sounds, but “they don’t jive with siderod motion,” my friend observed.
Looked pretty good to me: “four beats to the bar....” Nearly all steam-locomotives are only two drive-cylinders that work both ways. For every wheel rotation you get four chuffs: “strummin’ with the rhythm that the drivers made....” one of the best lines a rock-’n’-roll song ever made: Chuck Berry’s “Johnny-B-Goode.”
The NYC steamer seemed to be doing four beats to the bar. Increase train speed, and chuffing speeded up. Toy-train technology made things more realistic, but still seemed unrealistic compared to the real thing. —To properly model a real railroad ya need an airport hanger.
“A giant garage-sale,” my friend said. We wandered about trying to hit all the aisles. They were awash with HO stuff, bundles of dusty flex-trak, and mega-dollar switches. Boxes upon boxes of colorful railroad-cars, none with graffiti. Real railroading is a surfeit of graffiti. Strangely only the cars get graffitied, not locomotives.
Some of the model freightcars were “weathered,” but none had graffiti. And none were “Alaska.” My friend always looks for Alaska Railroad. “Alaska” had to be special-ordered, I guess.
An hour was all we could stand. My friend bought a small tool. “I wonder if these guys actually sell anything?” I asked. Tee-shirts, books, posters, classic Lionel stuff from the ‘50s, a booth by Genesee Valley Railroad Museum, colorful boxcars full of chocolate mints (???????).
We’re both 74, so somewhat slow. Parents ricocheted about with children enthralled by the many chuffing trains. And look-out for the motorized handicap carts! Layouts galore, all brought as pieces for assembly in the hall.
Some layouts were N-gauge, what my friend does. But most were HO. “N” is 9 mm or 0.354 inches between the rails. “HO” is 16.5 mm or 0.650 inches between the rails. So “N,” being smaller, can be more realistic. Although I’ve seen N-gauge layouts that were totally unreal.
We ambled out: “I need a bathroom,” I said. My friend sat with a complete stranger who turned out to be another retired bus-driver just like us. “Yada-yada-yada-yada.” Bus-drivers talk too much. I’m guilty myself. (Wisecracks, snide remarks: e.g. “aw man.....”)
After I returned, my friend walked off to use the bathroom himself. We later tried to get coffee. A catering-service was selling refreshments.
“What if I want coffee?” I asked. “I give you this cup,” the clerk said; “and you give me $2.”
“Too much,” my friend said. “A dollar for gas to the coffee-shop around the corner,” I said. “So $2.50 total around the corner, plus blow 15 minutes.” I bought, but he didn’t.
We then left, shaking hands with the stranger. “Only model-train show I been to all year,” my friend observed; “and I missed the two best.”
Yesterday was his birthday (74), and he had to rush home so grandchildren from Ontario could visit.

• For 16&1/2 years (1977-1993) I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service (RTS) in Rochester, NY, a public employer, the transit-bus operator in Rochester and environs. My friend, who also drove bus, was slightly behind me in seniority.