EMU, DMU, Dual-Mode, EM-DMMU, Push-Pull…
November 7th 2007 04:02 pm
Many moons ago, on my daughter’s 18th birthday, I decided that she was old enough to ask for what she wanted as a present. Can’t go wrong here, I thought. She picks it out, I go get it. Simple.
When I awoke from my dream, here’s how it really went, as I recorded it in my journal:
“Honey, you’re 18 and an adult. I think I’ll leave it to you to choose your birthday present.”
“Dad, I don’t know what to say. There are so many things I’d like. Instead of one big present, can I have a bunch of smaller presents?”
Uh-oh. This is not good. I have a sudden flash of futurevision - spending days trekking through mega-malls and outlet centers picking out cutesy accessories, shoes and lord-only-knows-what 18-year-old-girls are buying that’s “hot” this year.
I was hoping she’d want that cute little VW Beetle convertible the dealer has parked out in front. She’s dropped more hints about that car (”All my friends just adooooore them”) than Vana White has turned letters. Besides, it’s basic, affordable transportation that won’t break my budget and won’t be a shop queen. The simpler, the better. Right. Wasn’t that Graham Claytor’s motto?
“Sure, honey, within reason. Tell you what? Why don’t I get a gift certificate from the store and you and your friends can have the fun of picking out all the things you’d like?”
Uh-oh, I think I just committed to issuing junk bonds to fund this expedition.
One week later…
“Dad, I don’t think it’s fair of you to put this responsibility on me. I can’t make up my mind and I’m just overloaded with choices. It’s like you don’t really care what I get so long as you don’t have to bother doing it yourself. I think that’s selfish of you. I want to go back to the way we’ve always done it. You buy it, I act surprised and scream and hug you and then I return it for something I really want.”
“OK sweetheart, I want you to be happy. I’ll surprise you.”
So off I trot to the dealer. I have a choice of three colors, two radios and vinyl or viny-like seats. I pick one, sign away three years’ worth of greens fees and drive off. Sneaking the car into the garage late at night, I adorn it with a huge red ribbon and bow and wait for the next day’s unveiling.
“Honey, here’s your birthday present. Surprise!!”
I flip on the garage light so she can see the sparkling new car that I knew she wanted all along.
“Uh, Dad, this is really nice. Really.”
That’s it? Nice?
“Honey, don’t you like the color? We can exchange it for another color today.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just that it’s really not practical. It only has two doors. That’s going to be a real drag when we double date or I have all my friends in there going to cheerleading practice. And a convertible - that’s not really safe. I mean, what if I have an accident and it flips over? And the way things are on the freeways these days, you need a lot of power to get up to speed and merge into traffic. These things are kind of pokey. I’m sure it’s great on gas and I know you can fix anything on it that goes wrong because you know everything about VWs.
But I’m not sure it’s right for me. I hope you understand.”
Several days and a second mortgage later, a new BMW sits in the driveway.
Weeks go by. I haven’t asked about the car and she hasn’t said much. One night at dinner, she breaks into tears and runs intro her room. I follow.
“Princess, what is the matter?”
“Oh Dad, it’s that car.”
“The car? What’s wrong with the car?”
“I can’t drive it. That’s what’s the matter!”
“Of course you can drive it. I’ve seen you.”
“It’s not that. It’s just that there’s too much to deal with. To turn the radio on, I have to push a button on the dash, then find the volume control on the steering wheel. I can’t reach the place where you put in a cassette without hitting my head on the sun visor. There’s this buzzer that goes off if I don’t have my seat belt on when I start the car. But even when I put on the belt, I have to turn off the car and turn it on again to get the buzzer to stop. And you know that long light at Smith Street? I put the transmission in Park to wait out the light and then I can’t put it in Drive unless I remember to put my foot on the brake pedal and the more I forget about all the things I have to do, the more distracted I get and it’s no fun to drive and I feel like I pay more attention to the car than I do to the road. The seats ooze something oily when the car has been in the sun and it’s ruined two of my favorite sweaters. And my friends don’t even want to ride with me because they say I’m a nervous wreck and no fun when I’m driving.
I hate that car, I just hate it. I’d be happier riding my bike again!!!”
I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s really hard to satisfy a set of complex, poorly defined needs with a single solution. I really have to remember this. I think I just had a life lesson. I’m going back for a hardtop VW as soon as I can unload this other technological wonder. I’m putting a bike rack in the garage so she can have all of her transportation choices at her fingertips. Next year, it’s a bottle of perfume or a scarf.
As I’ve read through the two motive power RFPs that NJT has put out recently, it occurs to me that they’ve been trying to do much the same thing.
NJTRO is not one railroad. It’s a group of railroads that each have distinct needs based on physical plant, topography, customer/ridership patterns and at least one with a rather stupid parent (Amtrak) that imposes its own set of of conflicting and sometimes unreasonable expectations. There’s no one-size-fits-all solution. And trying to achieve that by over-engineering the solution is not the answer. Never was, never will be.
Eine Kleine Multi-level responded on 13 Nov 2007 at 4:25 pm #
The sentiment here seems to be that NJT continues to fall all over itself trying to get all, or at least almost all, NY metro rail service to enter Midtown Manhattan. The other two commuter railroads serving New York City do not have all of their service entering Midtown, at the same time, although their percentage of trains serving that area is higher than NJT’s and, of course, their electrified territory covers more route-miles than NJT’s.
Frankly, what NJT is trying to do is under-engineer a quick solution, not over-engineer. There are two tiers to the extant solution, the lower being using third-rail dual mode and the higher being extension of catenary electrification. The current path being explored is an attempt to justify the expense of the investment in the push-pull stock, while seeking to fulfil the “one-seat ride” promises attached to THE Tunnel by coming up with a unique type of equipment that would be conducive to the ultimately-limited service entering Midtown. However, perhaps the focus on Midtown is the problem; neither of NJT’s analogues across the Hudson are pushing so hard to change their own stati quo.