On the GO Train with Smelly Meat and Michael Jackson

To be honest, I had consciously planned to not write a piece about Michael Jackson because I felt like I didn't want to contribute to the already existent chaos that the media has brought upon the situation. However, an encounter I had this morning made me rethink otherwise and I thought it would be worth sharing what had happened.

As I was riding the train to school today, an old man, who deemed himself as a physically disabled person (though if you ask me, I would have deemed him as clinically insane), took a seat beside a young woman. Their seats were directly parallel to mine, with the aisle separated between us. The old man began to speak to himself loudly, while carrying a bag of meat, which had a scent that wreaked the entire train cart. I was barely able to listen to the lecture on my iPod because of the old man's bickering, even with the volume turned up all the way. I decided to turn it off, but left my headphones in my ears.

The old man began to say the weirdest things and jumped from one subject to another, without making any logical sense whatsoever. He first began talking about the Jackson family, referring to the family as Negroes. He then began talking about how he received a $700 tax return from the government, and told us that he would allocate his return the following way: $400 to him and $300 for the "Negro" Michael Jackson.

Then, he randomly screams, "SADDAM HUSSEIN" and "Damn Muslims." I stared at the seat in front of me, pretending to listen to my iPod. The woman sitting in front of me turned around and looked at me. I raise my eyebrows and she rolls her eyes in the old man's direction and turns back around. He then proceeded to "speak" to someone on his cellphone (his hearing aid) and the people sitting around him on the train laughed. I wasn't sure if I should have been ridiculously pissed off at him for his racism, or if I should have felt sorry for him.

Regardless, the trains engine failed because the Go Train sucks. The announcement given by the customer service adviser said that it would take a while for the engine to be repaired. I either could have waited for the train to arrive at my stop along with this crazed old, racist man holding a smelly bag of meat, or get off the train and figure out how to get to school using the subway. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the latter decision is the better choice, and that's what I did.

If there's one thing I learned from this experience, it's that celebrity deaths have a profound effect on some peoples lives. Who knows why, but it just does, so much so that old men will fantasize strange stories involving themselves and the celebrities engaging in financial transactions. I wish I had some sort of wisdom to share with you, but I really don't. Celebrity obsessions are a dangerous thing and racism, a lot more so. I think what I had experienced today has unfortunately left me with a little less hope for humanity, and I could only wish that the current generation could eliminate this sort of racist mentality that still, quite shockingly, exists in our present day.