Commuting with Nature, Worker's Comp / 26.05.2005

Pretty in Pink: My Coworkers and I in the Uniform of the Day Commuting time is usually decompression time. Unlike driving, riding the subway each morning and afternoon allows me to listen to music or This American Life on my iPod, read the morning paper, and sometimes just observe my fellow commuters. Today, as I made my way underground, I was reading Deepsix, my latest less-than-deep sci-fi novel. I casually looked up to notice the five people sitting closest to me were all wearing pink and black. Hmmm. This was a bit out of the ordinary. And as I walked up...

Barely Socially Acceptable, Commuting with Nature / 11.12.2004

Download these handy dandy cards,perfect for any overbearing cell phone interaction I am a voyeur. To be a good artist you must be willing to observe and listen. It's not hard when you take public transportation every day. As an art career move, my transportation from the isolation of LA freeway driving to the close contact of DC's subway has been a boon to my artmaking. Hence the creation of The Theatre of the Barely Socially Acceptable. As an artist I am stealth. When I hear fellow commuters' private yet very public cell phone conversations, I surreptitiously reach for my Moleskin notebook...

Barely Socially Acceptable, Commuting with Nature / 22.03.2004

In this month's Theatre of the Barely Socially Acceptable office politics meets low carb but tasty recipes. March madness: cell phone monodialogues® from the subway underground: We've got to nail this guy! If we don't we'll be knockin' on doors. Yeah, tomorrow at the latest. Wait a minute, I forgot to tell you. I had the best cauliflower at Janet's last night. Yeah, amazing. Well, you cut the head into little florets. And spread them on a cookie sheet. Preheat the oven to 450. Yeah, it's gotta be hot. Brush on double virgin olive oil And bake for 20 minutes. Are you writing this down? Then just salt and pepper to taste. But for the best...

Commuting with Nature / 23.02.2004

My iPod with Wifi

It's Friday afternoon. The weekend beckons after a long five days. Major Web site redesign almost ready for launch. Me: on the subway home with thoughts of a mellow Chardonnay nestled sweetly in a Reidel crystal glass. I'm listening to Pink as my antidote du jour for today's non-stop link checking on the redesign. I'm boppin' my head nonchalantly to the beat, oblivious to the rest of the world.

Just off to the right I notice someone moving his head to my beat. It's sort of like being in the left turn lane and seeing the car-in-front-of-you's turn indicator click to the same meter as yours. You wait for them to go out of sync. I wait for his head to miss. It doesn't. I watch. It's been five minutes and we're still together.

Both of us are lost in our own secluded worlds. But what if iPods came with built in WiFi --not just to download music to our stereos but with the ability to receive and broadcast other people's playlists? Not file sharing but music sharing. We could become our own mobile and micro DJs. Why limit our rotations to what we've downloaded to our units. Why not share them with others as they pass near us on our daily commute.

The range wouldn't have to be long. Envision a tuner where you could tune in and out people's "shows" as you commute home or walk down a crowded urban street. Think of the Meetup and Smart Mob possibilities. Everyone converges on 28th Street and K. You know your group by in-sync bobbleheads.

Barely Socially Acceptable, Commuting with Nature / 07.02.2004

In this month's performance from the acclaimed Theatre of the Barely Socially Acceptable--monodialogue® cell phone performances from the Washington subway--showbiz lobbies for better government. Ladies and Gentlemen, The Theatre of the Barely Socially Acceptable, Act 3: What's up? I had a good time too. Hey thanks. Yeah, I've been working out. Twice a week at Homeland Security. Ah huh, the gym's in the basement. An old bunker. Abs and upper body. Tom Ridge? Never. Not just a stud, a nipple shield. At the gym? Yeah, I hear stuff. [A woman nearby abruptly shuts her Clive Cussler novel] They're putting Bush on a tape delay. Just in case. 5 seconds? No, 5 minutes. Not enough. What's he...

Barely Socially Acceptable, Commuting with Nature / 22.01.2004

Last month, after a particularly grueling day at work I founded The Theatre of the Barely Socially Acceptable. Each month I would perform underground cell phone conversation tableaus to the apathetic minions riding DC's subway system, the Metro. The response to our premiere performance was fantastic. No one suspected a thing and no one took notice. Today, my theatre troupe debuts the second in its series. Speeches this week by two diametrically opposed politicos (both in tone and in temperament) provide the muse for this month's production: Hi, yeah it's me. Let me --wait a minute. Wait a minute. Wait. Nah, I don't think...

Commuting with Nature / 24.12.2003

It was one of those spur-of-the-moment things. Just as we pulled into my subway stop this morning I decided I was going to wish everyone in my car a booming Merry Christmas. My impromptu holiday plan would take place just as I took my exit. I envisioned the good cheer and commuter camaraderie that we still-in-town workers would share. But could I summon enough chutzpah to pull this off? It wouldn't be the first time. I had no time to think twice. If I hesitated for a second I would falter. The train pulled to a stop and the chimes announced...

Barely Socially Acceptable, Commuting with Nature / 20.12.2003

After a particularly difficult and emotionally heart wrenching day at work (is there no other kind?) I was listening to my iPod's special "Get Over It" mix on the subway home, prepared especially for days like this. While undoing I looked around me and observed a man I often see on this train. He reached into his pocket for his cell, popped his earbud into his ear and began to talk. As always with these devices people look like they're speaking to themselves. They smile and react to someone unseen. It's not as if the unseen person is "there." The cell...

Commuting with Nature / 05.08.2003

In two more weeks my life will change forever. My oldest, just about to enter the 2nd grade at the end of this month, will be joined by my youngest as she enters kindergarten. Their school is close to home and my commuting with children days will end. What a big step for all of us and I am sad excited sad… Ok, I can’t wait! For the past four years I have dutifully accompanied one or both of my girls to preschool downtown. This has meant I have risen every workday at 5:15 and left the house with one or...

Commuting with Nature / 19.06.2003

While Steve was cleaning up after a night of teen debauchery, I suddenly found myself walking quickly through my own nest of broken eggshells. This morning, on my commute to work a young man got on the train, his Walkman blasting louder than I’d ever heard one blast before. I hate it when I can hear nothing but the rat, tat, tat of the bass. The volume was blaring. My inclination in these cases is to say something. But, of course, I never do. He moved to the middle of the car, yet the sound continued to surround me. I looked his...