SEPTA strike maxxes out the cabs and 30th street is Far. Arrangements are made and Harry and his significant other are amazingly hoopy froods for manifesting wheels for Bryan and myself.

Day starts with a quick provisioning run to Wawa, followed by Billy Idol doing a live set with three Motley Crue-lookin' dudes on acoustic guitars in front of a live audience of young asian women and old scary-lookin soccer moms. Berlin's amazingly awful video for Metro, some {Jessica Simpson|Sharon Apple} thing, a snatch of Gorillaz, some Weezer-inflected hipster shit and Leo Laporte looking bored to near-stupor at some sort of bubbly OS X-powered software demo shot in July. Fucking TV.

Harry shows up, saving me from Bryan's control of the remote.

Leaving Drexel, Sputnik is thumbed on for the first time since Aoi (pronounced "owie" by Bryan and others - I'd phoneticized it as ay-oi internally, but seeing as how Pittsburgh is worldly in the same sense as the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, I'd no incidental means of the proper pronunciation happening to me), Friday night. First track off the drive is Wish by the Cranes.

Sputnik runs for the next seven hours and change without stopping and presently reads at around 3/4 battery capacity.

Stepping out of the Amtrak station in Pittsburgh, the lyrics of Vampires, track 10 of the final Godflesh album, Hymns. Apt. Complete olfactory collapse brought to you by the mandatory Asshole With Cheap Cigar blatting away into a cel outside the terminal doors. Start itching immediatly, having broken into a sinus-stopping sneezing fit between Greensburg and Final Destination.

The first words out if iTunes mouth as I'm offloading gear in the batcave? "This. Is. NECESSARY." - Tool, Aenima, Disgustipated.

Fitting.

Quickly followed by Soma FM's Secret Agent while unpacking (of equipment and other things) occurs, then Solios's Pumpcon 2k5 Theme Song - Die Warzau : Gone Chemical, with an Oxygene remix slipping unobtrusively in on the leadout.

Off to tie up other responsibilities; will sort through train photography later.

Contrast: Philly's 30th street station has a hotel-styled waiting loop for taxis. You escalate up from the trains, exit stage left, wait your turn, state your destination and cruise off in style within moments. Pittsburgh's Amtrak station had a jitney.

Yeah. A jitney. Just the one. No cabs.

Leaving the house to Front 242 : Religion (Pussy-Whipped Mix).

Woot.