One life, but we're not the same
Jun. 5th, 2008 11:03 amNearly two years ago,
hendybear gave me a lovely mp3 player as a birthday present. It is none of your iPod nonsense, it plays any format you care to chuck at it and doesn't require specialised software to shove songs onto it. I love it.
"Ha!" I thought as I unpacked it. "Now I can walk round with music in my ears all the time."
I use my mp3 player a lot. It's also a recorder, so it helps me mp3 the tape-tracks which appear in The Box on Fridays. On long car journeys in plugs into my car stereo. It provides me with portable music when I go away, and helps me pass long train journeys.
However, it very rarely comes out with me on walks.
The other day I rounded a corner in London, and heard an amazing noise. I detoured off my route to find it, stopped to listen to the busking duo I found, and ultimately chucked money in their bucket just as they were packing up. A saxophonist was playing improvised jazz over a fantastic percussion line - provided by a bloke who sat in front of an array of upturned buckets, mess tins and a water-cooler refill. His only "proper" equipment was drumsticks and a cymbal which lay on the ground, damped by his foot. He was absolutely awesome, both to watch and to listen to, and I was completely transfixed. A smart, middle-aged lady, a bunch of emo kids and I all applauded when they reached the end of the set.
At the same time, I was saddened by the number of people walking past completely oblivious. I understand not everyone likes buskers, not every likes jazz, some people are in a hurry, etc. But to have so little interest in things going on a scant six feet away is something I don't understand. In particular one gent, probably about my age, was walking along reading a magazine; tell-tale white wires ran out of his ears and under his jumper. He was completely insulated in his own world, impervious to anything in his surroundings.
Listening to a music player while outside gives you two options: keep it quiet, and be continually interrupted by station announcements, people, buskers, screaming, or turn it right up and hear nothing from the outside world. The first is irritating, but the second removes the point of being outside.
Even if I'm doing a daily commute, I want to be aware of my world. I want to hear station announcements (they might affect me), I want to hear buskers and I want to interact with people. If something is happening, I want to understand it and perhaps I want to join in. Some of those things might be an annoyance at times but they are the The World; I am in it, and it's the only one I've got.
People have occasionally expressed envy that so much Stuff happens around me, that so much anecdoteworthiness can crop up on a single journey. The Stuff is there for all - I was just looking when it happened.
It's your world, too. Are you going to join in ?
"Ha!" I thought as I unpacked it. "Now I can walk round with music in my ears all the time."
I use my mp3 player a lot. It's also a recorder, so it helps me mp3 the tape-tracks which appear in The Box on Fridays. On long car journeys in plugs into my car stereo. It provides me with portable music when I go away, and helps me pass long train journeys.
However, it very rarely comes out with me on walks.
The other day I rounded a corner in London, and heard an amazing noise. I detoured off my route to find it, stopped to listen to the busking duo I found, and ultimately chucked money in their bucket just as they were packing up. A saxophonist was playing improvised jazz over a fantastic percussion line - provided by a bloke who sat in front of an array of upturned buckets, mess tins and a water-cooler refill. His only "proper" equipment was drumsticks and a cymbal which lay on the ground, damped by his foot. He was absolutely awesome, both to watch and to listen to, and I was completely transfixed. A smart, middle-aged lady, a bunch of emo kids and I all applauded when they reached the end of the set.
At the same time, I was saddened by the number of people walking past completely oblivious. I understand not everyone likes buskers, not every likes jazz, some people are in a hurry, etc. But to have so little interest in things going on a scant six feet away is something I don't understand. In particular one gent, probably about my age, was walking along reading a magazine; tell-tale white wires ran out of his ears and under his jumper. He was completely insulated in his own world, impervious to anything in his surroundings.
Listening to a music player while outside gives you two options: keep it quiet, and be continually interrupted by station announcements, people, buskers, screaming, or turn it right up and hear nothing from the outside world. The first is irritating, but the second removes the point of being outside.
Even if I'm doing a daily commute, I want to be aware of my world. I want to hear station announcements (they might affect me), I want to hear buskers and I want to interact with people. If something is happening, I want to understand it and perhaps I want to join in. Some of those things might be an annoyance at times but they are the The World; I am in it, and it's the only one I've got.
People have occasionally expressed envy that so much Stuff happens around me, that so much anecdoteworthiness can crop up on a single journey. The Stuff is there for all - I was just looking when it happened.
It's your world, too. Are you going to join in ?
no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 07:21 pm (UTC)Earlier this week...
This train will be calling at all the usual suspects, and additionally at...
(Sorry, didn't catch the name of the additionals. I only cared that it would be stopping at Wembley Stadium.)