NOTE: Podcast audio no longer available. I think I accidentally deleted the edited version -- and the original.

Jon Espenschied wrote a piece in Computerworld recently about how he was especially observant while waiting for his flight at an airport, and spotted a woman systemically fishing credit-card receipts from trash cans.

Apart from exchanging a knowing glance, Espenschied didn't call the authorities on this person. Should he have? Unattended bags, suspicious behavior and anything out of the ordinary are, unfortunately, causes for concern. After all, "If you see something, say something," is the message hammered home to us whenever we travel these days.

But if you see something on Chicago's Metra rail system, don't waste your breath saying anything. That sad conclusion crossed my mind after reading Espenschied's column because I've had similarly unsettling experiences three times in about the past month on Metra, the commuter rail service linking Chicago and 230 stations in a six-county area. In my case, however, I saw something, tried to report it -- and was met with complete indifference. 

It all started on Dec. 21, 2007, when I was about to board a Metra train at the Ogilvie Transportation Center. As I neared the last car, I noticed a picnic cooler sitting unattended in the vestibule. I figured this was no big deal, that some overburdened passenger had been manhandling a passel of packages onto the train and would return shortly.

A couple of minutes passed and the cooler just sat there. I wasn't about to get overly dramatic, since simple explanations are usually the correct ones. And the simple explanation was that nothing more hazardous than a ham sandwich, bag of Fritos and a couple of cans of diet soda were inside that cooler.

Still, the thing shouldn't be left there. Then, I noticed a Metra conductor walking along the platform. I approached him and told him about the unattended item in the vestibule. This guy curtly informed me he was off duty and that I'd need to alert the next conductor I saw and assured me there'd be one along soon.

"I understand that," I told him, "but we're supposed to tell you guys if we see something? You know, these times of heightened security and all?"

He repeated his desire not to be detained and hurried off. I started looking around. Other passengers were climbing aboard the train and walking right past the unattended picnic cooler without even noticing it. I wasn't scared, but I was sure getting miffed.

Finally, another conductor came by. I pointed out the cooler to him and he dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "Oh, that's mine," he told me. "I'll take care of it."

In the days that followed, I began to worry about both conductors' laissez-faire attitude toward me, so I telephoned Metra's customer service line and spoke to a representative. I wasn't too specific about the incident, since I didn't want to get some guy in trouble or fired for what I assumed was a simple lapse of judgment. When I asked what I should do in the unlikely event this happens again, the rep earnestly informed me that I should go tell someone in the glass-enclosed office at the end of the platform. What I was hoping for was that she'd tell me they'd remind the conductors not to leave things lying about.

In any event, I figured that was the end of that and that one way or another, these conductors would somehow get the message, feel somewhat embarrassed by the experience and learn to stow their lunch.

But that's not what happened.

On Jan. 3, 2008, I was boarding the train and, yep, there was that cooler again. And on Jan. 8, there it was a third time.

Something tells me that this cooler is being left there unattended every day -- and since I don't ride Metra every day, I'm just not noticing.

So, what should I do? Call that railroad security phone number the next time I see this? Tell the folks in the glass-enclosed office? Do nothing? That seems to be what hundreds of other people who see this unattended cooler are doing.

Am I making too big a deal over some conductor's lunchbox?

Ask someone from Madrid.

ChicagoScope feedback line: 312-683-5272. Send e-mail to ChicagoScope@gmail.com.

I visited Colorado recently, and talked my cousin Brian Hague into joining me on a visit to Edgewater Inn, which I consider to be one of the best pizzerias in the world.

This suburban Denver eatery has always been an outpost for great pizza.

We ordered a large pepperoni pie and soda pop and the bill came to just over $15. I know this is going to sound odd, but the pizza tastes like a high-class version of the pizza that used to be sold at the Woolworth's in downtown Denver on 16th Street. (This huge Woolworth's was pretty much an experience in cheap mercantile overload. My mom once described it as "marketplace in Calcutta.")

I've loved the city of Edgewater for a long time. The place really does have the feel of a small town. Back when I was in high school, there was nothing quite like a walk down the hill into Edgewater's major retail section at 25th Avenue and Sheridan Boulevard. There were several cafes, a liquor store, a bakery -- and my favorite, Edgewater Drug. Whatever you wanted, chances are Edgewater Drug would have it. I was especially impressed by the selection of newspapers and magazines, second only to the treasure trove at Jerry's News in Denver at Colfax Avenue and Broadway.

Sadly, both Edgewater Drug and Jerry's News are but memories. Same for the Lake Shore Drive-In Theater, which, once us kids started driving, my parents only occasionally allowed us to attend. (Deserved or not, the drive-in had a reputation as Hood Central.)

Edgewater also was home to KIMN Radio, 950 kilocycles on your AM dial -- "95 Fabulous KIMN!" They pronounced the call letters as "kim." I believe the call originally referenced the Inter Mountain Network. Although the call letters are still used, the top-40 powerhouse hasn't been around in that format (or as an AM station) for years.

We also talk about the large number of Denver streets named after Indian tribes, and wonder whether the urban legend is true that a local appeared on a game show many years back and won big money by being able to reel off all those Native American names.

RESTAURANT CONTACT INFO
Edgewater Inn, 5302 West 25th Avenue, Edgewater, Colorado. Kitchen: 303-237-3524. Bar phone: 303-233-9892.

ChicagoScope feedback line: 312-683-5272. Send e-mail to ChicagoScope@gmail.com.

You don't need to live in the sticks to benefit from a farmers almanac. After all, everybody's interested in the weather, since sooner or later most of us will need to deal with it one way or another. We reviewed three widely available almanacs, all of which provide ample meteorological predictions, planting guides, tide tables and astronomical data.

But wait, there's more! Articles will enlighten you on the history of popcorn, how to wash your hands, ghost pets, famous blunders, strange weather in years ending in the number 8, all about bananas, wedding weather woes, how weather affects fall foliage, why butter is better than margarine, flowers that stink, and recipes, recipes and more recipes.

It's the advertising, however, that provides most of the entertainment in these publications. In addition to the standard farm and garden stuff like tillers, mulchers and the like, there are ads for incinerating toilets, sex pheromones, erectile-dysfunction cures, miracles uses for vinegar, and "Foods That EXPLODE in Your Bowel!"

If nothing else, these time-honored guides offer great reading in any room of the house -- or in the outhouse, for that matter. They also make great companions for the Burpee catalog.

ONLINE ALMANAC LINKS
The Old Farmer's Almanac
Farmers' Almanac

ChicagoScope feedback line: 312-683-5272. Send e-mail to ChicagoScope@gmail.com.