Silence, the blessed sound of nothing.

I suppose silence isn't so much nothing, but the absence of the yammering of unwanted mouths, the endless pings and rings of cell phones, the music people share (that no one else wants to hear).  Silence, my dear friends, is the endangered species of the digital age.

Case in point: my commute in this morning.

I first take my car to the train station, approximately 2 miles from the house.  I then climb aboard the South Shore Railroad for my trip into Chicago (approx 2 hours), then walk from Millennium Station to the Washington Street stop for the Chicago Transit Authority Blue Line.  I then take the Blue line to the University of Illinois at Chicago.  All told, my commute is approx 2.5 hours, one-way.

At only one time during this 2.5 hour journey, am I alone.  That lowly 2 mile commute to the train station from my house is the one time I spend truly alone, just me, my car and likely NPR.  If I am lucky, I will catch a good story, if I am not, I change to music.  Let's call this part of my trip 10 minutes, just for grins.

I now have 2 hours, 40 minutes left.  During this entire 2 hours, 40 minutes, I am surrounded by people.  Sometimes people I know, but more often than not, total strangers.  We share close quarters, indoor space, punctuated by the comings and goings of fellow passengers.  It isn't wholly unpleasant, but it is not the private, confined space of your own personal automobile.

This morning I had to endure the following:

1. A woman (on the South Shore) and a man (in the Washington CTA station) who insisted on sharing their choice of music with all.  
2. A group of college-age people who shared videos on their phones with one another, at full blast.
3. A man who insisted on sharing his opinions on everything (although NO ONE asked him to).
4. Several cell phones, ringing endlessly without being picked up.  I do not know the reasons why, but I assume it has to do with the flagrant ineptness of said cell phones' owners and their ignorance of the vibrate/silent feature.  

It is days like today that I feel the age of civilization is as close to an end as it ever has been.  The "civil" part of civilization has been wrenched from its moorings, tossed asunder by the relentless onslaught of selfish bastards thinking only of themselves.  

As much as I love my commute (and I do) and I love taking public transit (I do), there are days I understand why people would much rather just get in their own car, in their own personal realm of joy & peace, than ever make contact with another human between home and work.  It is days like today that I arrive to my destination with a belly full of bile and an urge to spew it.  

Lucky you, dear readers, you get to hear all about it.