Disrespectful people

Yesterday, I got on the bus to cut down the distance for my Uber ride. Just trying to save a buck I guess.

When the bus came, I thought there was a lady trying to get off the bus. I stepped aside to let her out, but she didn't move. I then figured she was talking to the bus driver.

I don't think I ever mentioned before, so I'm going to make a statement now. Years ago I noticed bus drivers are now encased behind a plastic door. I guess they were always in a protected area, but this is a complete encasement. Thought it was a sad reflection on society.

Anyway,  I chose a seat near the front of the bus. I usually sit in the back. As the bus was going over the Interstate, some guy from the back joined the lady in the front and started yelling about how he was disrespected by the bus driver.

I didn't witness the event. Something must have happened before I got on the bus. I don't know what it was, but I think it was taken out of proportion. Some people call foul too often, too easy over minor things.

The couple went to the back of the bus meanwhile insistent cries of disrespect was voiced. I rolled my eyes and asked if we were there yet.

Literally at the next stop, the bus driver gets off. Oh great I thought, how long is this going to take.

This gave the guy more things to yell about. I thought it was ironic that he was being disrespected and now he can be totally disrespectful to everyone else on the bus. If I had to be at my destination at a certain time I probably would have been more upset.

I'm guessing the bus driver was trying to call a supervisor or for some backup. I figured it was time to get off the bus after one stop. And I walked for about 10 minutes before I called for an Uber.

Should have just done that from the start.

This is why I hate public transportation. This is why I wear noise-reduction headphones while on public transportation. This is why I hate disrespectful people.

Dad, Superman, and me

I saw it happen. Almost in slow motion.

My brother’s and my Dad were playing football in the street for some reason.

The pass was a seemingly perfect spiral and my Dad was in the air making the perfect diving catch.

With the broken arm, I knew then my Dad was not Superman.

Growing up I thought my Dad was a super man. He couldn’t fly or pick up large objects without effort, but he always had an answer for all my silly questions. Sometimes he probably made stuff up….

Anyway, he also could fix almost anything. I can only recall a few times he had to call someone else for their expertise.

My Dad has remodelled every room in the house that I grew up in. He even took over the garage with his workshop.

Having been on the inside track, I also saw the not so super things my Dad did. If my siblings were honest, I don’t think they would say he was the world's greatest Dad, but I would argue he was the best Dad I ever had. He did what he thought was best and that is about all anyone can do.

I have heard a bunch of stories about a successful father training a son to take over the family business. I never had that opportunity.

I’m pretty sure my Dad did not go to work every day because he enjoyed his job or that he was ambitious to climb that corporate ladder or chase prestige. He dutifully went to work to support us kids.

When I commuted with him to the University of Utah, he would listen to slow tempoed, soothing music because he was in no hurry to get to work. However, on the ride home the tempo was quite faster.

A lot of movie or story plots revolve around avenging a father’s death. I almost find it rather hilarious.

My Dad doesn’t seem to be anybody’s target, so if he got swept up in some awful tragedy it would be sad. I just don’t see myself spending the rest of my life or however long looking for revenge.

Superman or not, he was and still is the greatest Dad I ever had. I might trade him for the Wolverine though. :)