Whims

Sometimes I do things on a whim. For example, I might buy imitation almond extract (benzaldehyde) or peppermint oil on a whim. Or I might give my little brother the chocolate I just bought on a whim. Or I may learn pager code or send flowers on a whim.

So today, on a whim, I decided to take a bus north. See, I got out of class at 1 pm without any obligations for the rest of the day, and I thought maybe I'd read a book I've been wanting to read, and I wondered whether I'd rather read it in the library or in the attic in which I live or elsewhere. And I thought, why not on a bus headed north? So I took the first bus that came by - the 830. I decided to then transfer to the 811 which got me to TRAX. I was thinking of maybe even taking Front Runner to Ogden or something. But instead I remembered how to get to a park, so I got off on 21st South and took the 21 bus east to the park where I read for a while. Then I walked a little before taking the 21 west back to the TRAX station, from which I took another train north to Temple Square where I got out and walked around for 10 minutes before catching the next train south. It was much colder than I expected. I only had on a light jacket. Light in terms of insulating ability, but dark blue in color. I also walked through water (for the sake of consistency) that was deeper than I'd expected at this park, so my feet were wet. They still are - I'll have to take off these shoes before too long. I then took the 811 back to Provo. It was almost a seven hour trip. I read about 160 pages. Maybe I'll finish the book tonight - I've only got about 40 pages left. And nothing better to do unless another whim hits me.

These are some things that happened:

A goose hissed at me. There were geese at the park, and I walked near them and one hissed. I was in the act of apologizing to the geese for intruding when this one hissed, which made me feel bad. And caused me to fear for my life. There were a lot of geese there.

While walking quickly to try and keep warm at Temple Square, a kind upper-middle-aged man with a wool top coat and a white name tag thought I might be lost and told me I had to go all the way around the fence to get out. I thanked him, and said to myself, "Couldn't I jump over the fence as well?" There are a lot of metaphors involving jumping fences. All of them go back to how my dog didn't jump over the fence in my back yard.

A drunk man got onto the TRAX train headed south, and tripped on the stairs. I almost stood up to help him to his feet, but he was already managing on his own. He wasn't all that drunk. This reminded me of a man (I can't remember his name - this is going to bother me until I do remember, I may have to look it up) in San Martin, Argentina, who I helped out of a ditch after he'd failed to ride his bike successfully while drunk. He was all that drunk. He kissed my hand several times. This memory may also have contributed to my hesitation in helping the gentleman on the train today.

I loaned my cellular telephone to a stranger on the 811 bus heading to Provo. He talked for 3 minutes and 14 seconds to someone that he loved, and who had been expecting him on an earlier bus. I've found that one of the best reasons to have a cellular telephone is to be able to loan it to people on buses.