April 7th, 2o1o

The Music in Your Head

Since my day involves taking kids to school and football practice and picking them up and bringing them home, I spend a lot of time on public transport.  I probably use it 4 or 6 times each day.

It can be a bit depressing.  As anyone who has lived in Prague for any length of time will confirm, people do not smile on the Metro.  They generally sit, looking straight ahead with as blank a look as possible on their face.

I suppose there is a logic to it.  It can be a bit obnoxious when large groups of boisterous people dominate the crowd.  When a group of football fans, or screaming Italian tourists get on the train it interferes with everybody’s peace of mind, to some extent.  Also, in a country with a long history of repression, masking one’s emotions may have become an inbuilt survival mechanism.

And, in fairness, the Czech flat face is no more of a mask than the American half smile which people are trained to use in public.

Still, it is depressing.  I had a thought this morning which makes it even worse.  I looked around and noticed many people with wires in their ears.  Sure, this makes a great deal of sense.  If you are forced to be on public transport for 45 minutes or an hour and a half per day, you may as well use that time to listen to music that you enjoy.

Which brings me to my point.  These people were, presumably, listening to the music they enjoy the most.  The music which is supposed to light your fire and lift you up where you belong.  The music that is supposed to put a smile on your face and a song in your heart.  The music that is supposed to make you forget your troubles, come on, be happy, and wash all your blues away.

Apparently, it wasn’t working.  They were hearing the notes and lyrics, and using them to block out the outside world, but the music was bringing them no joy.

For the most part, they were all pretty self contained and you couldn’t tell what they were listening to.  Sometimes I try to guess, based on age, gender and how they’re dressed, but I don’t have any way of confirming.  There was one guy there, though, dressed all in black and the music was up loud enough that it was bleeding out.  Some kind of thrash/punk/heavy metal/grunge/I don’t know, I’m old and all of those genres sort of blend together.

He, too, had a blank, non-commital look on his face.  I guess in that case, at least, it was a good thing.