May 24, 2004
iPod Commute
I take a certain gulity pleasure in listening to my iPod during my morning and afternoon commutes. Pleasure, because I enjoy the random soundtrack to something as mundane as a jostled ride through DC's underground. Guilty, because of the further disconnect those headphones give me.
A city's such a strange place. It's cliched to say that it's a place filled with more people than anywhere else, yet with so few real connections. I commute. Others commute. I literally rub against a hundred strangers in a day. And yet there's no sense of community. A lot of times, this bothers me, and it never seems more obvious than when I've got my Eggo headphones on and most of the other shmucks don't. Before, I'd be left alone with my thoughts. Now, I'm left alone with Four Tet. Nothing has changed, yet the division can now be heard.
At times, I feel like I should take off my headphones and open my ears. I should listen to the blaring of horns, to the metro conductor, to the babbling tourists. Those are truly the sounds of the city. Right?
glynn at May 25, 2004 02:37 PM
When I regularly commuted on the metro, I would sometimes make an exercize of paying especially close attention to the mundane goings on. I have always been struck by the degree to which we close out the world and become zombies on the subway.
end
kenji at May 25, 2004 03:31 PM
Yeah, that's exactly what I'm worried about doing. Every once in a while, I'll have this weird epiphany, a brushing against Dre's "it," where I'd really look around and see those around me. I'm worried about losing that with headphones. But in a weird way, I suppose the music can help with awareness, too.
end