Just one of my peeves that I jotted down while on the train the other day. To be fair, I’m known to yak too loudly every now and then, but, W tactfully quiets me. So from Wednesday…

It’s 3:30 p.m. and we’ve just stopped in Staunton, Virginia, a few hours southwest of D.C.—pronounced Stanton by southerners and some others. We’re moving slowly through Virginia farmland and it’s raining out there. And everything is green, really green. Very peaceful. But I’ve had to go under the cover of headphones, cranking up Jefferson Airplane, trying to drown out the constant chatter of the two in front of me. Boarding in Charlottesville, I suspect they’re UVA students. Wah-hoo-wah. Anyway, his voice is too loud and is distracting. I think he’s disturbing others around him, as well, as they’re staring at him, and it’s not interesting stuff.

The song, My Best Friend (an excellent song, I have to add…a little reminiscent of  The Byrds), is over and the music has stopped, but my headphones are still on and I can still hear him…a sky that turns red scares him… his seat partner speaks more softly but she supplies audible heh-heh’s to almost everything he says. He says he has a fear of heights…she says she doesn’t. Oh no, now I can hear her. The music resumes…Blues From An Airplane.

I think Grace and Company can keep me sane until he falls asleep…that is, if he falls asleep.

Oh, and she’s a hummer.