Miles Hunt: A Slice Of Life

Sunday 16 May 2004
reading time: min, words

Of all of the empty seats on this train, you let your children sit behind me and incessantly kick the back of mine.... what's the matter with you?

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What kind of society sits blissfully anaesthetised in front of the TV? Laps up tabloids like they's going outta fashion & worships every egotistical bi-ped that makes it onto our screens announcing themselves as a `celebrity'? I couldn't give a fuck what Posh & Becks are up to and, in fact, I sicken myself when I have to admit that I know the names of their offspring. As for chat shows, who gives a fuck if Kilroy got shit-canned for opening his big dumb mouth, I'm amazed he lasted as long as he did. Trisha.... don't even get me started, surely the most cretinous of human beings to ever have been paraded in front of a nation since Lorraine Kelly.... Oh Christ on a bike.... Ann Diamond's moronic mug just flashed through my mind.

I don't need a Nanny State either. Howard Marks made a wonderful observation when he asked "what is this fixation with dying healthy?". The onslaught of smoking bans, the hypocrisy of our drug laws. Treat people like irresponsible half wits & guess what, they'll be have accordingly.

And `The Kids' ain't gonna save us.... they were numbed by bad TV, bad music & mindless video games years ago. Those ain't games, you can't beat them, you can't create within them. The parameters have all been carefully programmed in long before these hopeless brats get their hands on them. Everyone of their thoughts has been second guessed & catered for. Sure it'll pass a few minutes, even hours, in yer day, then so will masturbation, but both waste away the creative juices, in more ways than one.

`Youth Culture' has become an oxymoron. What is the matter with The Youth? Choosing to express their individuality by dressing exactly the same as everyone else. When I was a `youth' we would openly point & laugh when we saw Teddy Boys on the street. I've found myself doing similarly when I see the way The Kids dress these days, kitted out in their little `punk rock' uniforms. And for chrissakes, of all the youth movements to homogenise! The very one that promoted individuality & a serious attempt at denial of conformity.

So, lets fuck the politicians in the ear & the same may as well go for the younger generation. I've come to believe that the only way we stand a chance of survival is for each & every individual to live by setting an example. I tend to over use such words as `please', `thank you' & `Sir'. I enjoy observing the reactions I get when I'm overly polite, it makes people happy and that in turn that makes me happy. It may well be that we enjoy being appreciated, but I see it as being deeper than that. In a society where actual one on one human communication, on a daily basis, is becoming rarer & rarer, it's good to interact.

I remember being in New York, shortly after the towers fell, and the mood of the city was entirely different from any other time that I had experienced it. I shit you not, during one of my first visits to that city, in the late 80's, I asked a smartly dressed businessman on 7th Ave what the time was. He replied "time you got a watch Buddy" and walked away. I was over joyed, of course. I had just experienced a real New York `fuck you', all to myself. But after the 911 attacks the character of NY's natives shifted. In 2001 I was standing somewhere in the East village looking for a subway entrance, I could see an exit but not an entrance. So there I stood on the corner of a street looking mildly confused, for not more than 20 or 30 seconds, when a UPS delivery man came up to me & asked "can I help you sir?". I filled him
in on my predicament & he very kindly directed me to the nearest entrance, but not before enquiring as to my final intended destination when aboard the train. I told him I was heading for Columbus Circle & he told me exactly which train & which line to get. It was a wonderful moment. New York was hurting & to get itself back on it's uppers it had seemingly decided to be nice to itself. Spirit of the Blitz? Does it
really take a tragedy like that of September the 11th 2001 for us to treat each other in a kind & respectful way?

Recently I rode a train from London to the midlands. It was pre 11am & I was delighted to find I had an entire carriage to myself. The journey is a little over 90 minutes & I set myself up nice with a book, some spoken word material I've been meaning to listen to for ages on the iPod (naturally) and my notebook. My tranquility was thwarted after 30 minutes or so when a young family boarded the same carriage. Now, what you have to bare in mind about me is, for as much as I don't enjoy the company of most people, I am neither, by nature, unduly rude, inconsiderate or disrespectful. Often to my own detriment. An old friend of mine from California once told me how I always impressed him when it came down to making important decisions. He said, "where I'm from you'd be called a `sure shot', damn shame the target is always yer foot Baby!". True enough.... But the family that boarded the train astounded me when they set themselves up directly across the aisle of the train carriage from me, when rest of the carriage was still entirely devoid of other bodies.

The family in question consisted of a mother, maybe mid to late 30's, and three children, two girls & one boy, of which at least one of the girls was visibly mentally handicapped. For the first 10 to 15 minutes they were of little consequence to me. Admittedly I had to abandon the book & the spoken word in favour of a few rockin' toons to drown out the noise of the kids, but what the hey, they were kids & just doing what kids always do around me, shout. However, i'd decided not to move from my chosen position in order to spare the mother the possible embarrassment of knowing that her family had caused me to move because her kids were not the most well behaved of offspring, or that particularly, the child with the disabilities was making all manner involuntary vocal & physical outbursts. Some 30 minutes into our acquaintance the two children that, to all intense & purpose, were not mentally handicapped, decided to move to the two seats behind me where upon they began to what can only be described as `kick the fuck' out of the back my chair. I was incredulous, to put it politely. My good will had been pushed to it's limits & I had to now say something. Off came the headphones & away went the soothing tones of Einstezender Neubauten...

"Of all of the empty chairs on this train, you had to let your children sit in the ones behind me & allow them to incessantly kick the back of mine.... what's the matter with you?"

"I told them to stop"
"Well, it doesn't appear to have worked, does it?"
"Kids, come back here, you've upset this man"

Under protest they returned to the table and chairs that their mother & sister were sat at. And for a short while, other than the now thoroughly unpleasant atmosphere that enveloped us, all returned to a relative quiet. And I to my iPod & the glorious noises emitting from it. It's worth me mentioning at this juncture, and believe me, I'm not looking for Citizen of the Year here, but on such occasions as riding trains or travelling on planes and listening to music, I choose to wear an enormous pair of cans, not unlike those of Doctor Who's Cyber Men and not, as you might imagine, to benefit myself (and I am no casual music user by any means, you might say I take my appreciation of music very fucking seriously) but to screen my fellow travellers from the kind of tinny irritations that no cunt on London's public transport system ever gives a thought to when torturing me, and others assembled, with those nasty in-ear items. Consideration, as the fella from Reef said.

As we pulled out of the stop before mine I decided to get my belongings in order. As per usual I had a coupla bags & a guitar with me. So I packed away my books & iPod and began tiding up the waste from my coffee & snack, briefly leaving my seat to dispose of them in the bin provided & put on my coat, all in readiness for alighting the vehicle in what I expected to be 5 or 10 minutes time. Fuck my luck. No sooner had I retaken my seat than the train ground to a miserable halt. No station in sight. Now in the US, particularly on the NY subway, when a train comes to an unscheduled stop I've found that either the driver or guard will almost immediately announce what the problem is & at regular intervals give the passengers progress reports. Sadly, on this occasion I was not on the NY subway & no such announcement was ever made, not a one, in the full 35 minutes that we sat hopelessly entombed within this crate of a train.

What I did experience though, was an unscheduled outburst from the mother of the three children sitting opposite me.

"Oh everything is my fault, I get everything wrong...." to no-one in particular.
"Was that for my benefit?" I couldn't help it.
"It may as well be, you were slagging me off earlier"
"I simply pointed out to you that your children were out of control"
"I couldn't help that"
"Whataya mean....? `You couldn't help that, you're their fucking mother, that's your fucking job"
"Oh I can't do anything right...."
"Listen, I'm gonna explain something to you now. No-one's life turned out the way they planned it. Geddit? No-one's. Deal with it, it's just life. Now I'll keep my problems to myself & I'd be more than grateful
if you'd do me the same courtesy."
"Oh you're perfect are you I suppose?"
"Far fucking from it! If you can't control your kids then do yourself & every other cock sucker a favour and STOP FUCKING! Stop having children, you're shite at raising them."

Now some people may consider my end of that exchange as being a little oo strong. Me? It did what I intended it to. It shut all four of them up. But now the voices in my head were screaming at me.

"You miserable bastard. Why the fuck did you go & say all that to her? D'you not think she has enough on her plate? You are a truly vile man."

Wracked with guilt, I was standing in front of the exit as the train pulled into my station. It took me some time to finally apologise, I've never been comfortable with admitting I'm wrong, but apologise I did.

"Listen, I'm sorry we butted heads earlier, I apologise for what I said to you & I hope your day gets better"

Her reply went some way to reaffirming my faith in humanity. With dignity & utter selflessness she said:

"Like you said, `it's just life'."

Ain't it the truth....

Miles Hunt. April 2004.

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