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2002-05-26 - 9:14 a.m.

I did a foolish thing. I allowed my personal feelings about public transportation cloud my judgement. It being a long holiday weekend, and that I was flying from San Francisco to the homestead in Utah, I decided to take BART to the Airport. Because a Limo would have been $80, a Shuttle would have been $45, Parking would set me back $24/day, and BART is $8. Next time I'm getting the Limo. Because it's door to door and I don't have to worry about it. But I was naive. And foolish. I had just settled into my seat when entered the car about 25 young adults in various stages of mental retardation and their handlers. Before I had a chance to resettle I was trapped. Let me step aside here and say, in my defense, that I understand, as well as possible, the struggles that people with mental handicaps face. All through High School I worked with programs and volunteered with groups that assisted people with difficulties living independent lives. I worked with adults and children. I wanted to be a lobbyist for Interest Groups that supported Handicap Reform and Access. My first major in college was Special Education Administration. But then the real world hit. Or I found the power of the dark side. And a life devoted to the well being of those unable to appreciate or understand the world around them was not in my future. And so I entered the world of Broadcast Communications. Which is another story for another time. Getting back to short bus I suddenly found myself on again after an eight year hiatus, and this time without and authority or even a whistle to defend myself with (seriously, try it. The shrill shriek frightens and confuses them enough for you to get away. Oh God, I'm going to hell) So I'm trapped. Okay, I think. I can handle this. Things would have been okay. I'm sure of this. It would have been an uneventful trip. Not even worth mentioning. But then some genius had the nerve to start them up chanting. It seems that our special friends where on their way to an Oakland A's game. And some jack ass started them up chanting Let's Go A's. And then clapping. Ha, fun. You've got a crowd of mental midgets chanting. But can you get them to stop? No. The answer is no. All the long ride from Pleasanton to the Oakland Coliseum, Let's Go A's. And then the clapping. Some of them where very passionate about the team. Spittle was involved. And an overabundance of childlike enthusiasm towards chanting Let's Go A's. It polarized the car into two camps. The majority in the Oh shit, when will this end, I can't say anything because the kids are special. And then there was the Dude, Shut the Fuck Up! Group. It was not pleasant. Once they had mercifully departed the remainder of the trip was uneventful. At least to the airport. Where the trials of travel began anew. I checked in using United's new check in kiosks, scoring myself an upgrade, and got through the security check with ease. Things were looking better, I thought, as I settled into my seat and sipped from the Jack and Coke the stewardess brought me. I was in the last row, against the bulkhead. I prepared to relax, and even considered writing this entry during the flight. But, during takeoff, several bottles of wine broke free, along with a coffee pot, splattering some people in front of me, who of course, were not pleased. And directly behind me was a group of college students from India who felt the need to converse in broken English with each other the entire flight home. They even attempted to play some game with a hacky sac until a Stewardess put an end to it. It was awful. I have never been so glad to arrive in Utah in my life. Today should be good though. The weather is lovely, and I have nothing major planned except for visits with old friends and a little sunning. And tonight we go out on the town. And there are no real sport teams in Ogden, as the baseball season is over. So it should be a chant free weekend. At least I'm hoping.

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