Country Mouse/City Mouse

This might be considered a rant. Am I allowed to rant on here? Will you stop reading if I do? Guess what? Suck it up.


Salt Lake has been slowly evolving its mass transit system and, thus far, the improvements have been widely acclaimed. Much more than anticipated. The latest addition is commuter rail. It’s similar to the Coaster system in SoCal, but with less ocean. A lot less ocean. The new Frontrunner trains have been running for several weeks now, in preparation for the first passengers on April 26th. My co-clerk Tom (I know I refer to him a lot, you’re just going to have to trust me that he’s awesome and wise and hilarious in a totally understated way and I’m a tiny bit in love with him, but so are the other two women in chambers and anyway, he’s also completely, blissfully married. And we absolutely respect that, but still, he’s so great) thinks that the whole "preparation" was actually a subversive plot because the schedule was perfectly timed to rush hour. Mr. Frontrunner Train flew by, taunting us, teasing us, because we were so lame for being stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic when we could be going 70+ miles an hour, if we were only smart enough to ride the rails.

Last night, the kids and I decided to take advantage of the penultimate (vocab word for you, Z) day of free fares implemented by UTA to drum up interest. Just in case Tom’s conspiracy theory was just that: a theory.


We got on a southbound train a little before 5 p.m. and it was standing room only. I knew it would be busy, they’d been running news stories about the families (like us) with a passel of kids (like us), heading to the Gateway for dinner (like us). Based on the population riding in the car we happened to be in . . . it was the first adventure out in a very long time for many of them (not like us). Maybe even the first adventure out, ever.

I think that if a woman holding a nearly five-year-old sleeping child is standing in the aisle of a train that does not have handholds (?), somebody should give up his or her seat. It’s not a gender thing, it’s not an equal rights thing . . . it’s a respect thing. Seriously? Isn’t this common courtesy?

In addition to the standing thing, there were no less than 30 children, shoving their way up and down, up and down, up and down, the crowded aisles. For no apparent reason. Also, the woman next to me on the ride home who YELLED THIS LOUD TO HER DAUGHTER ON THE LOWER LEVEL for the entire train ride? She was awesome. I'm a loud talker myself, so if I think it's loud, well, let's just say that wherever you happened to be last night, that was her voice that you heard. And the gigantic, space shuttle-sized strollers that were strategically positioned at both ends of the aisle, so nobody could reach the seats or stand in the middle without answering the riddle from the troll guarding the bridge, I mean, the father of the sleeping baby inside who glared at you for nearly waking his child? Also awesome. And the two-year-old kid who took up three seats all by himself because he insisted on playing musical chairs, by himself and without music? Sweet boy. Real charmer.

Who are these people?

My own children were, of course, perfect. If you overlook the fact that Spencer fell asleep, sitting on the floor, leaning against my leg because I wasn't about to pick him up and hold him for 45 minutes. My arms could fall off. And hopefully nobody noticed that Abby's nose started to bleed (a la Old Faithful -- a real gusher) just as we made the hurried transfer from Trax to train and we had to clean up using my shirt (hooray for red!!) and a single Kleenex.

I know, I know . . . glass houses and all that. Shut it.