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Today's Featured Biography

Cheryl Ritchie McCarthy

Diaries of a Mad Romantic – Soul Chocolate and Haberdashery


Haberdashery is not only a fabulous word, but, a beautiful collection of nonessential adornments, clothing and/or accessories for men. The sound of the word suggests a dapper gentleman, with scarcely a wrinkle on his clothing, sauntering toward a fine stretch limo with a fashionably dressed woman on his arm. That was how I saw them, the people on the 5:00 L-train that passed my bedroom window only inches from my eager young eyes.

... such splendor.. enchantment... I dreamed as it slowly lumbered past.

The loud thundering of the train as it slowed to a near crawl shook the building as if to command me, to cease my childish tomfoolery. No matter what I was doing, the call of the “ beautiful people” was irresistible and thus I ran to greet them daily. As it made the bend around the old brown stone, the well lit “L” appeared as a cornucopia of fascinating images which I studied from my exclusive seat at the corner of my bedroom window. With it's gentle crawling motion I connected with the nameless faces neatly washed and painted up. Some were tired, others animated, and some expressionless, as if they'd left their life on some other train. For those riders, I would make up interesting stories that always had a happy ending. After all, such people did, didn't they?

I recall dashing excitedly about, turning off the lights to shelter myself from their equal inspection. The men in their pressed suits looked like those I’d seen on television, with fine black felt hats,and held newspapers tightly pinned beneath their elbows, not a hair out of place. The women had neatly coiffed hairdo’s in vogue with the fashion of the day, and wore fine tailored coats tucked snugly around them, with not a button lost or a thread out of place. Some held on to straps and stood, conversing with each other, while others hid behind newspapers with that look of superior importance I'd seen on Mr. Wilard's face when grandma paid for groceries with her change.

I couldn’t bear the thought that they might see in, as easily as I saw out. I was certain their observations would be less enthralling than mine! A simple turn of their heads would have revealed bare walls, tattered, sheet-less mattresses and frayed waffle style blankets that lay bunched on the floor. All evidence of absent parents that clearly were without felt hats and matching gloves. To be validated in that impoverished state by mere observation would have been devastating!. So I hid, and I studied their eloquent attire, gestures and I dreamed in the safety of my private theatre.

Questions raced through my mind. Who were these people? How far had they come? more importantly, how far would they go on this marvelous contraption that seemed in no real hurry at all! My Mother said they were the people who worked downtown but somehow escaped the misfortune of living there. What did they talk about, and what did they do when the ride was over? I didn’t know and I didn’t care. One needn't touch or taste, to know with such intimate accuracy, the source of that which enlarges our soul. Day after day, the glamor of the "trains people" slowly disappeared as the rocking train left it's trail of hope behind.

For some, it was far from extraordinary, in fact annoying to those with little imagination. To a small girl, it was right up there with the good fairy, only so much more real... and by far, more present!

Life below the iron passage, painted a picture far more bleak. I preferred the view from behind the glass that separated our worlds, effortlessly. I imagined the beautiful people built the mesh of metal beams to lift them out of the dingy, littered street's. Bright grafiti painted biographies that told a different story, and went mostly unheeded by the rider's above.

Their existence presented a world filled with possibility, the least of which meant that one day, I might be numbered among them.
The screeching sounds of metal on metal faded taking with it the refinement I'd longed to know. One day, I thought, I will ride. I will.

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