Tuesday, July 31, 2012


Anywhere else, people would be asking, "What are all those children doing?  Do they have their cousins over?"

Saturday, July 28, 2012


Commutergirl and I were on our way to Provo the other day (I know . . . sigh) because she was going to a baby shower.  She was crocheting a blanket for the baby shower, so she made me drive so she could finish it on the way.  I did not go to the baby shower.

On our way to the baby shower, we got caught behind an accident on the freeway, which caused this

to turn into this


We had to put the car in park and turn the engine off because we were almost out of gas.

I'm not sure I need to tell you this, but all I was thinking about the whole time was

holy CATS I want that train to be here.


You called?

Thursday, July 26, 2012


Thelympics are coming!  Tomorrow!

Attribution unknown.  If someone knows it, they're welcome to volunteer.

In honor of it being thelympics, I would like to share a brief story about London.

I have a friend.  Let's call her "Buyer."  Some of you will get that if you say it out loud.  Buyer is currently studying music in London, because she's basically one of the most awesome horn players that walk the face of the earth today.  Before she went to London forever, she went to London for a few days to audition and stuff.  She came back and said "BUSNINJA! BUSNINJA!" 

(Okay, she said my actual last name.)

"You HAVE to study transportation in London!  The public transport there is to DIE for!"

I said, "London doesn't need my help.  Utah needs my help."

She said, "But you could go to London and study their public transportation, then come back to Utah and help them!"

I said something about how I didn't think it would really be the same situation, but that I would still love to visit London someday and ride their transit system.

That was the end of that conversation, until later in the evening on that same day, when we were all hanging out at Buyer's house ("Cheers!") and it came up in the conversation that Buyer was going to study in England.  I think it had to do with the movie we were watching, but I don't recollect exactly. 

Buyer said something like "I want to go to London and marry a Brit!"  Then she paused.  "No, I want to marry an American who is studying in Britain."

Buyer had perhaps forgotten her earlier outburst that evening, but I had not.  "Buyer!  Let's get married!"

She looked right at me and said, "No.  It would never work.  We're both musicians."

It takes a while for me to get hints.  "But I'm not going to be studying music!  I'll be studying engineering!"

So she tried again.  "No."

I let it drop this time.  Everyone laughed at me, because I was silly.

I'm still going to visit London someday.  I may see the sights.  But I will most definitely see the Tube.

Tuesday, July 24, 2012


Just wanted to let you know that I loved. Loved. Loved your entry in today's Days of '47 parade.  Thank you for having such good taste.


Monday, July 23, 2012


At church yesterday, after we had gotten back from singing with the really little kids and had slipped back in with the not-quite-as-little kids before it was their turn to sing, a lesson in honesty was being presented.  We were talking about not cheating on tests, when one spunky youngster (we'll call him Lemuel, shall we?) started raising objections: "I've cheated on lots of tests, and I've never felt sick inside."  "Well, I already knew everything, so I didn't have to cheat, but I did anyway."

If that were my kid . . .
The topic next turned to obeying traffic laws while driving.  Lemuel had an answer for everything, of course.  "But what if your wife was pregnant, and you were on the way to the hospital?  Should you stop at the red light then?"  Our gently discouraging answers were doing nothing to sway him from his goal to be as contrary as possible, so it was time to ramp it up a notch.

I raised my hand.  "What if you are crossing a train track, and the lights come on and the gates come down?  Should you wait for the train to go by, or should you try to run and beat it?"

A chorus of "NO!!!"s rang out from the assembled children.  The teacher, capitalizing on this newfound unity, reminded the children that they should NEVER, EVER try to beat a train across the tracks.

Lemuel said . . . nothing.

Because even Lemuel knows that any time is train time.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012


Now that commutergirl is unemployed, and happily so, she gets to do things like bring lunch to my work!  It was her idea.

Last week we met at Central and caught the 3 over to Harmon's, so we could eat on the pretty tables.  We did.  This post is not about that.

This post is about how, as soon as we got on the 3, a host of other people also did, including one man who sat down in the sideways-facing seats at the front of the bus and immediately addressed the bus driver:


First, yes, and eww.  Second, is this how you always begin conversations?  There's some improvement to be made here, if so.  This could be what you've been missing.

Commutergirl said in a somewhat raised voice, "Please! It's lunchtime!"  Her cries went unheeded.  Conversation proceeded along the lines it was originally postulated.

We weren't sorry to get off at Harmon's.

Saturday, July 14, 2012


The other day I was coming home from work on the Green Line. We stopped at Courthouse, and masses of people got on (no, really; masses). As the doors began making the beeping sound they make when they are about to close, a man came sprinting up to the train, as people so often will.

You guys do know the train comes every fifteen minutes, riiiiiiiiiight? Missing it is not exactly the end of the world . . .

Anyway, he got to the train, and when he got on it, he apparently tripped, judging by the sound of things falling that was subsequently heard in the proximity of the train door in question. Whereupon the man let out a series of repeated, animal cries


such that I was certain he had lost one of his limbs in the incident. I was not alone. All the people around me were craning their necks, and, though it was too crowded to see the door (Check it--the Green Line was crowded), we were able to ascertain more or less what had happened due to subsequent conversation in the vicinity of the door.

Fortunately for the man in question (and for everyone else, really), no body parts were lost or harmed. While I never figured out exactly what had dropped, it was some sort of an electronic device--a laptop, or an iPod, or something. Comments were proffered and accepted about the durability of new-fangled electronic equipment, the device was turned on and appeared to function normally, a feeling of general relief spread through the car, and the Green Line continued whizzing (okay, sauntering) down 200 West.

Dude. Don't scream like that.

Friday, July 13, 2012


Making traffic move the way it should is hard.  And getting harder.  And it will only get harder.

If this video makes sense to you, you're probably a transportation engineer.  Otherwise, just take the train.  It pulls up, you get on.  (And it has wireless!)

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Handicap Signs for Stupidity

So I'm on the Trax platform and I walk past a guy in a wheelchair. He was going to the far end of the platform to catch the blue line to sandy. (As I'm sure the regular readers know, weekday blue lines are still the old trains were a handicap person who doesn't want to use the stairs has to go to the top of the ramp to get on.) As I continue walking, I hear a guy behind me ask the man in the wheelchair which way he is going. The guy says, "Sandy" in a very matter of fact, slightly annoyed way. It was obvious that this good Samaritan was going to use his boundless knowledge to help this poor handicapped man out. It IS ok to help people who look lost or don't know where to go. Other than that, mind your own business.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012


Today one of my facebook friends shared a photo from a group called La bioguia, which apparently all about making life better in a variety of ways, including environmentally, educationally, socially, and spiritually.  Some of their ideas are quite reasonable; some are a little odd.  And this one is wicked cool.

Bookshelves at bus stops so you can read while you wait!  They should probably be attached in the back, or something . . .

Since I'm using their picture, here's the link to La bioguia's website: http://www.labioguia.com/  (It helps if you know some Spanish)

I think this should be done at all 811 stops, and I'm only sort of kidding--if you've ever gotten to the Sandy Civic Center TRAX station five minutes after the 811 left and fifty-five minutes before the next one leaves, you know what I mean . . .

Monday, July 9, 2012


Dear stupid Provo pedestrian:

No matter how urgently you need to adjust the song on your iPod, and no matter how interesting whatever you're listening to is, it is not as interesting or as urgent as not bumping into me.  I'm a lot bigger than you; the impact will be far worse on you than it is on me.  You may even damage your precious iPod.

Look up.


Saturday, July 7, 2012


In the past two days, commutergirl and I have gone two places.  Last night we went to Provo to pick up some shirts for her brother who is on a mission, then we had dinner with my sister and hung out.  Then we drove home.  Today, we only left the house once, to water the garden (we have two plots in our stake community garden) and eat dinner.  In that time, we have seen five forest green Subaru(r) Outback(r)s.

Like this.
There were THREE at the same intersection in Provo last night.  Then we saw one as we were driving to the garden today.  Then, while we were at the garden, another one pulled in.  We grabbed our zucchini and ran.  Actually, commutergirl just pointed it out to me in a whisper so we wouldn't alarm the owners, and we had a jolly silent laugh about it.

Suddenly, owning a Taurus doesn't seem so conformist anymore.

Thursday, July 5, 2012


I was on the 205 the other day, when a variety of people got on, including two I'm about to describe.

Person 1:  Male.  Late twenties.  Ill-fitting clothes.  Pale skin.  Probably doesn't spend enough time outdoors, or not-playing-computer-games in general.  Shoulder-length, tousled, dirty-blonde hair.

Person 2:  Female.  Late forties, early fifties.  Obviously spends a lot of time in the sun, or at least getting tan.  Clothes fashionable for someone somewhat younger.  Shoulder-length, tousled, dirty-blonde hair.




Tuesday, July 3, 2012


Last week, after I got off the 801, faced down the evil bomb, and successfully navigated the treacherous torn-up sidewalk on Center Street in Provo, I squared my shoulders and set off to walk the remaining twelve blocks.  This is not as hard a task as I'm trying to make it sound.  Provo blocks are not as big as Salt Lake blocks, etc.; twelve blocks in Provo is barely more than a mile.  It was hot, and I was cranky.  I was able to convince myself that it was a bit further than it was.

Nevertheless, I did finally reach the block on which the friend I was going to visit lives.  And just as I was about to go around the corner to walk toward his house, another friend of mine who was on his way to the same party I was pulled up and said, "Do you want a ride for the last half block?"

I could only think of one thing to say.