Why I own an mp3 player
Friday night, standing in front of Charing Cross station, waiting for a bus, I found myself listening to a Bleatcast from James Lileks, one of my favourite writers on the web (or elsewhere). It was this Bleatcast in particular, about what Neil McIntosh describes as cultural references that wither with age. As Neil says, this subject gave James:
an excuse…to delve back into the 50s timewarp he inhabits for much of the time, it seems, but in which he dwells in very entertaining fashion.
Something about James’s voice and the subject matter and the 50s radio snippets - contrasted with the busy, flashy, irritating surroundings of London’s Strand at 7.30 on a Friday night - really got to me. It was wonderful, not transporting me (which is what I thought I wanted and needed), but adding an unexpected, fabulous layer to an unfabulous situation, all coming together to make me feel positively…Well, positive.
The traffic was so bad that I hopped off my bus at Bond Street and headed for the Tube, by which time my iRiver had switched to Nuthin’ but a G Thang. This took me back to March, to racing down Rodeo Drive in my secret friend’s Mercedes, fresh from a meal at the Four Seasons alongside Daniel Day Lewis, heading towards Westwood and laughing our heads off at the ridiculousness of the lyrics and the fun of our lives right that second.
I have rarely had a more enjoyable commute.
Filed under: Life