Wednesday, November 29, 2006

On Monday morning, I hit snooze on my cell phone alarm clock a few times before seriously lifting my head. I muttered to myself and kicked at the sheets, grabbed the string for the venetians that dangled by the head of my bed and tugged the blinds open - not much brighter.

Yeah, it's getting toward December all right.

It's still mild out but I took a look at the bike, and at the clock steadily creeping past 8 AM, and decided I'd take the subway in. It's not really a decision based on how much time I have, because riding the bike is quicker especially when I factor in the walk from MSG to my office, but the later it gets, the harder it is to get going, and something just made me not want to get on my bike that morning.

Maybe there was an accident waiting to happen.

On the subway I got the opportunity to watch people disengage with their surroundings. iPods everywhere, tinkering with cell phones, or just staring straight ahead, numbed out. What a world we live in, where we take every opportunity to shut ourselves out from it. It makes me grateful I don't have an iPod and it makes me grateful that I don't take the subway to work - with fatigue and resign, I too would just look for ways to disengage.

I've spent a lot of time in various parts of my life doing things that have been disengaging rather than engaging. I like to think that biking is a way to engage with the world - I get outside more often, go places I wouldn't otherwise, meet people I wouldn't otherwise, interact with strangers more, perhaps, than I would if I were on foot - but it's a bit more complicated and more dynamic than that, because I'm sure that some people around me may have noticed my occasional tendency to sink into a space where I only think about riding. It's happened. It will happen again. I try to be careful with myself when patterns and priorities emerge in my life. There was a few months last year when I spent almost no money at all, except on alcohol. It's good to track those sort of things, to be clear about how it's choice and not happenstance.

This started with me thinking about how I'm glad I don't have an iPod. But I also have to realize that I've barely discovered new music in the past two years. I can count on one hand the number of artists who have broken in to my steady rotation. So what I really need to do is give friends 5 blank CDs and tell them to get to work on my "New Year, New Music" gift.

I gotta get on that.

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2 Comments:

Blogger gyra said...

i would love to do that new year's present. (tho technically speaking, it might be more Old Music.)

6:37 PM  
Blogger - said...

Not owning a (working) iPod has been one of the better decisions I've made since coming to the city.

I have to disagree about the detachment in the subway though. It always seems like I'm being engaged, by people, sounds, problems, questions etc, that the 20-30 minutes on the subway are, for me, a time to reflect and have to myself. It's true that at my most worn-down I'll be my most introverted, but there ain't nothin wrong with that. I think of it this way: Once, there was this tourist couple on the 3 train who were loudly complaining about the subway, how crowded, loud and unhospitable it is, etc. But it's a fact of life, just a couple minutes between home and work where, even though you're moving faster than anything else in the city, you finally feel like you're not.

9:05 PM  

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