So I’m sitting here at midnight Central time watching TV before bed when I decide on a whim to check in with the webcams.
And what do I find there but two Mikes live in the yard, shuttling back and forth and then, voila, a third comes trudging down the hill and into town.
Think of this for a second. This literally is a sight I’d never thought I would see again, and it’s happening before my eyes as if it were the most normal, most predictable, most mundane event in the entire world.
I find myself happy that I’m not so jaded that amazing things still amaze me. And it is wondrously amazing, is it not?. Can I get an “A-men!” from the congregation?
I find myself happy that such a place as Chama still exists and the perfectly shaped little engines still have a place to work at midnight.
The world felt a little better tonight. It made me wonder if I should shake off the comforts of retirement and apply to be the GM. Coal consumption rates. Manpower scheduling. Inventory. Pricing. Personnel. Marketing. Politics. As Al Pacino says in "Scent of A Woman: "I've been around, you know?" Ah yes, all the things I know how to manage. At the least, I could give the little railroad a national voice it might lack now.
But maybe not. Maybe there are other men and women who will love this little place even more and give their skills to cherish it as I do from afar. Maybe they would find my passions for the place silly and amateurish.
But I cannot stay away for long. I do know that. Maybe an apartment for a few months. Maybe spend a summer working with the Friends. Sweat still has value.
In any case, I want to come back, Chama.
Wait for me.