Subway Musings - Shake, Rattle, and Roll

I was on the subway today coming home from work and a woman came aboard at City Hall. She was wearing a long blue corduroy button down and had very long strawberry blonde hair, probably late 40s. She struck me as a little odd because she was holding a paper plate with a slice of pizza on it, but on top of that was another paper plate with an empty soda can rolling around on top of that. She was looking around for a second until she decided to look down on the ground, actively searching for something to catch her eye. She kept nudging the pizza slice this way and that, as if it was a restless sleeper trying to find the most comfortable position.

Upon getting between Rector and Whitehall, she took the Diet Coke can and started shaking it vigorously. This would have been fine except she had broken off the tab on the top of the tasty beverage (I'm a Diet Pepsi man myself, even Diet RC, Pepsi One if available, Diet Sunkist) and had lost it in the can. She kept shaking it and shaking it, the little fucker rattling away inside. People started to take notice. And just when you thought you couldn't handle it any more, the tab showed itself on the paper plate. The woman didn't even look elated, which led me to believe that this was something of a routine. She then inspected the tab for a split second before putting it in her pants' pocket. That also led me to believe that this was a habit.

What got me was the length of time she was giving the can the business. I would say I'm a pretty patient person in most cases, and it felt interesting to me as the sharp cackling grew louder that I wanted to see how long it took for it to bother me. Just as you're about to give up internally, she got what she wanted. It's like a weird build up of something you don't want to hold onto just to test yourself, I dunno, putting your finger next to a burning candle to see how long you can hold out. What a tease.

Kind of like most old Juliana Theory songs from Understand This Is A Dream (which I owned for several years), you think they are going somewhere climactic and big, and then you're just left frustrated. And that's before I started to dislike them..."the TAI-eeme is 2:22 andIhooope your wish, comes, truuuueee...." what's with those numbers on the album cover?

Speaking of Juliana Theory, they are coming around after 4 years of not being a band (what's with all these bands, some I like, coming back after 4 years, which is totally not enough time to be broken up, come on Piebald) to Highline Ballroom way out there in Chelsea, way out there on August 20th this year. They are pre-selling tickets to all 46 of their current fans (oooo low blow, sorry guys).

Subway Musings - Discman Like a Boss

I was coming back from work on the subway listening to a little Scary Kids Scaring Kids, and I was at the front of the train. Being at the front of the train is awesome because you can stare out the front window and with the help of side lights and the train headlights, you can see the trajectory of the train. It's like you're going through your personal cave tour.

Anywho, there was this twenty-something woman with jet black hair parted to one side, bob length. She had a bright purple, old school puffy jacket, kind of like a purple version of the jacket worn by Jennifer Lopez in her "Feelin' So Good" video.

She was quietly rocking a Discman. Large and in charge Discman. Obstructing her purse Discman. She changed CDs and was listening to an old MCA Records compact disc, and it was just kinda glorious to watch. The deliberateness, and patience, and slow pace was nostalgia and hypnotism at once. I would remember for the longest time, I had my old school water resistant Koss portable CD player, bought for cheap at The Wiz (none other) for 20 bucks. One of the best 20 bucks ever, because it was the baddest ass CD player ever. It had rubber on it, and didn't need skip protection because it was a beast of a CD player. It was ginormous. Even if I was a weirdo, everyone loved my CD player. I could submerge it in ze water and it would still play. I had to carry it in my hands everywhere because it didn't fit into any pocket. A tank wouldn't survive a head on collision with it.

So as I saw this woman with this Discman, and not for ironic or hip reasons, switch CDs out, from one full album to the next, I smiled. I bet I could still do it like that (I'm partial to listening to albums straight through). It's not just a technology thing, but the transition from tapes and CDs to something like an iPod is the patience with which we listen to music, the time we take to listen to musicians and the complete work that they record. Of course there are great singles. That's why we take the time to make mix tapes and CDs. The charm is there. You think about the music more. It's great.

Picture this CD player, but a snap on arm on the right and a light gray front. About twice as thick too. And large kooky rubber buttons along the bottom. And the word Koss was embedded on the plastic front.

Oh and before you forgot that I referenced a J Lo music video, BAM: