I love your saving pocket change analogy. Doing small, positive things consistently has made HUGE life-changes for me.
Okay, like you, no way am I keeping my eyes to myself in public. I am a curious people-watcher. Every thought is reflected on my face. Even when I think I'm holding back, I'm not.
Ha! I thought that photo of you as a teen was posed in front of a Canoga Park sign. That's typical of me, trying to find kismet connections with people. I live near Canoga Park in the San Fernando Valley and made that massive assumption.
Once again, I enjoyed catching up with your thoughtful life.
Sitting in a tube right now andewhile reading your account of the experience really makes my day :D
Reading only works with really engaging writing for me, usually, the conversations are so much more intrigueing. I often engage in the thought of how much "space" is travelling in the same direction: because every single traveller has this entire universe around them, their world which I cannot see but know it's there nonetheless. When we have eye-contact, acknowledged or not, it feels like these universes open up and since there is so much energy in every one, that contact is so difficult to handle. If there is touch involved, it's even stronger! Very fitting to the title of your publication, come to think of it 😄
Totally agree with you on your observation about privilege. I guess forgetting how fortunate I am when I look over my life, both its ups and downs, can be a privilege in itself.
Whenever I visit a major city and use its public transportation system, I truly appreciate what public investment can do to both improve and enrich the lives of its inhabitants and visitors. London is certainly no exception.
I find reading a book on a bus/train/whatever no challenge. When I lived or worked in a big city and had to use public transport on a daily basis, it was a great way to catch up on my reading--especially when I was in graduate school and had so little time for reading beyond my studies.
People watching certainly has its protocols, which change when visiting different cultures. I never mastered them even in the ol' USA let alone in other countries. I guess the best I can do is just be polite and circumspect.
Observing those who are down on their luck and must survive in public spaces can be a daunting experience. Thanks for reminding us that just being polite while acknowledging people's existence can go a long way for both the observer and observed.
Kathy, you are spot on about the treatment of those who are homeless or less fortunate. I loved my experience using the Tube while I was in London a couple of years ago. I confess, I do people watch (especially in airports!). It can be quite interesting! But my friend and I also had interactions with others on the Tube. One in particular comes to mind because my friend and I are physical therapists and we had a wonderful conversation with a young lady who is an occupational therapist.
Growing up in a midwestern mass transit desert, I love riding underground when my travels present the opportunity. And I agree, London's tube is awesome-- Montreal, Stockholm and Boston [which of course stops at the Government Center where they have lots of great desks and chairs] rank highly as well.
I very much relate to your efforts to be engaged under the guise of disengagement and indifference to most of your surroundings. I like to think I have that skill mastered, although those skills would be put severely to the test if I was traveling in the tube with a member of R&R royalty 🙂.
As always, I greatly enjoyed this installment. You're a helluva good writer.
Your experience riding the tube reminds me of riding the T in Boston. That map of the tube looks similar to the T map of Boston. I got caught a few times myself people watching, but I wasn't looking at her hands lol! FYI you were adorable as a teenager!
I am OBSESSED with the tube! Living in Toronto, which only had TWO subway lines when I was growing up (we’re up to a whopping 6 now! 🤣), I became absolutely enamoured of it on my trips to London. May I suggest you watch a show called Secrets of the London Underground? It has lots of cool tidbits and information about the past, present and future of the system. A little nerdy I know, but worth a gander.
Hi, Kathy! Loved reading your observations on the tube, something that's become such a big part of my own life, too. I made my first journey on the Bakerloo line when I first arrived and I was so fascinated by the trains with the little round headlights, I later learned that they'd been in service since 1972. Totally glam rock!
During my first year in the city, I was filling in on bass for a friend's power trio and when we'd travel together on the tube, they noticed how I'd sometimes have to duck slightly under the doors getting on the carriages so as not to knock the headstock off inside the soft gig bag over my shoulders; they called it the "Dong-Woo Duck" and it would always make us all laugh each time I did it!
I'm sure there are lots more references to the tube in songs, but I thought of a really pretty one from Kirsty MacColl's "Last Day of Summer" while reading your piece: "The winter changes everything and the raindrops freeze on the signs of the Underground . . ."
The photograph of you in front of the Canon Park tube sign is so beautiful and iconic. I could see you on a seat, with your Stratocaster, just like that, now. Past, present and future, on the tube, are one timeless linear moment. A variety of commuters and styles all telling a different personal story. Strangers looking at each other as if they felt they knew something about the person sitting in front of them. Everyone is so fashionable at the same time, unlike the boredom of National Rail where most people are either drunk, stressed or miserable. In the 80s, when I was travelling on the Central Line, every single person was either reading a book or a newspaper. And the doors guard in the last coach used to say hello to me because he was so used to seeing me on the platform at the same time.
I'm pleased to read that your time in India and Bhutan have made a positive impression on you and have expanded your spiritual horizons. Every thing will be good.
Mind the gap! When I was 12 my father sent me to Montreal with his French Canadian girlfriend. It was the Olympics and I wasn’t afraid to take the train solo either.
The Elizabeth Line must be one of the newer ones. I was in London (ostensibly to go to school) in 1981, and my first tube ride was on the Northern Line from Gatwick to Finchley (Friern-Barnet), where my host family lived. Unfortunately, I got mixed up and wound up in “Chalk Farm” (how embarrassing!) on a different branch of the line, but later realized that that’s where the “Roundhouse” was, where Pink Floyd played before anyone had heard of them, or knew what “psychedelic” meant.
After riding the tube for a few months, I discovered the bus, which went past “Ally Paly” and through Muswell Hill, where I desperately hoped to catch a glimpse of Ray Davies (I didn’t). I’d get off at King’s Cross Station, and walk about a half mile to the “University of London School of Pharmacy,” which sounds impressive, but was actually where there was a surplus of classroom space for ordinary American students, who were wandering around wondering what we were doing there.
Loved reading this! What were some of the takeaways that you practice from your time in India?
I love your saving pocket change analogy. Doing small, positive things consistently has made HUGE life-changes for me.
Okay, like you, no way am I keeping my eyes to myself in public. I am a curious people-watcher. Every thought is reflected on my face. Even when I think I'm holding back, I'm not.
Ha! I thought that photo of you as a teen was posed in front of a Canoga Park sign. That's typical of me, trying to find kismet connections with people. I live near Canoga Park in the San Fernando Valley and made that massive assumption.
Once again, I enjoyed catching up with your thoughtful life.
Sitting in a tube right now andewhile reading your account of the experience really makes my day :D
Reading only works with really engaging writing for me, usually, the conversations are so much more intrigueing. I often engage in the thought of how much "space" is travelling in the same direction: because every single traveller has this entire universe around them, their world which I cannot see but know it's there nonetheless. When we have eye-contact, acknowledged or not, it feels like these universes open up and since there is so much energy in every one, that contact is so difficult to handle. If there is touch involved, it's even stronger! Very fitting to the title of your publication, come to think of it 😄
Hello Kathy,
Totally agree with you on your observation about privilege. I guess forgetting how fortunate I am when I look over my life, both its ups and downs, can be a privilege in itself.
Whenever I visit a major city and use its public transportation system, I truly appreciate what public investment can do to both improve and enrich the lives of its inhabitants and visitors. London is certainly no exception.
I find reading a book on a bus/train/whatever no challenge. When I lived or worked in a big city and had to use public transport on a daily basis, it was a great way to catch up on my reading--especially when I was in graduate school and had so little time for reading beyond my studies.
People watching certainly has its protocols, which change when visiting different cultures. I never mastered them even in the ol' USA let alone in other countries. I guess the best I can do is just be polite and circumspect.
Observing those who are down on their luck and must survive in public spaces can be a daunting experience. Thanks for reminding us that just being polite while acknowledging people's existence can go a long way for both the observer and observed.
Kathy, you are spot on about the treatment of those who are homeless or less fortunate. I loved my experience using the Tube while I was in London a couple of years ago. I confess, I do people watch (especially in airports!). It can be quite interesting! But my friend and I also had interactions with others on the Tube. One in particular comes to mind because my friend and I are physical therapists and we had a wonderful conversation with a young lady who is an occupational therapist.
Growing up in a midwestern mass transit desert, I love riding underground when my travels present the opportunity. And I agree, London's tube is awesome-- Montreal, Stockholm and Boston [which of course stops at the Government Center where they have lots of great desks and chairs] rank highly as well.
I very much relate to your efforts to be engaged under the guise of disengagement and indifference to most of your surroundings. I like to think I have that skill mastered, although those skills would be put severely to the test if I was traveling in the tube with a member of R&R royalty 🙂.
As always, I greatly enjoyed this installment. You're a helluva good writer.
Until next time, Cheers!
-rick
Your experience riding the tube reminds me of riding the T in Boston. That map of the tube looks similar to the T map of Boston. I got caught a few times myself people watching, but I wasn't looking at her hands lol! FYI you were adorable as a teenager!
The London Tube is superb but I wouldn’t like to paint it.
I am OBSESSED with the tube! Living in Toronto, which only had TWO subway lines when I was growing up (we’re up to a whopping 6 now! 🤣), I became absolutely enamoured of it on my trips to London. May I suggest you watch a show called Secrets of the London Underground? It has lots of cool tidbits and information about the past, present and future of the system. A little nerdy I know, but worth a gander.
My first trip to London was 1976. And now you’ve taken me back there. Loved the tube!
Hi, Kathy! Loved reading your observations on the tube, something that's become such a big part of my own life, too. I made my first journey on the Bakerloo line when I first arrived and I was so fascinated by the trains with the little round headlights, I later learned that they'd been in service since 1972. Totally glam rock!
During my first year in the city, I was filling in on bass for a friend's power trio and when we'd travel together on the tube, they noticed how I'd sometimes have to duck slightly under the doors getting on the carriages so as not to knock the headstock off inside the soft gig bag over my shoulders; they called it the "Dong-Woo Duck" and it would always make us all laugh each time I did it!
I'm sure there are lots more references to the tube in songs, but I thought of a really pretty one from Kirsty MacColl's "Last Day of Summer" while reading your piece: "The winter changes everything and the raindrops freeze on the signs of the Underground . . ."
Dong -Woo Duck. 😃 cute.
The photograph of you in front of the Canon Park tube sign is so beautiful and iconic. I could see you on a seat, with your Stratocaster, just like that, now. Past, present and future, on the tube, are one timeless linear moment. A variety of commuters and styles all telling a different personal story. Strangers looking at each other as if they felt they knew something about the person sitting in front of them. Everyone is so fashionable at the same time, unlike the boredom of National Rail where most people are either drunk, stressed or miserable. In the 80s, when I was travelling on the Central Line, every single person was either reading a book or a newspaper. And the doors guard in the last coach used to say hello to me because he was so used to seeing me on the platform at the same time.
I'm pleased to read that your time in India and Bhutan have made a positive impression on you and have expanded your spiritual horizons. Every thing will be good.
Cheers from Italy. Cristina.
I'm glad that India and Bhutan are still sustaining you, Kathy. Can't wait to hear your Strat, in a proper bag now, back in action soon.
Greetings from Wembley Park. ;^)
And now I just want to hang out with you riding the tube and being weirdos…😊❤️ 🚊
Mind the gap! When I was 12 my father sent me to Montreal with his French Canadian girlfriend. It was the Olympics and I wasn’t afraid to take the train solo either.
The Elizabeth Line must be one of the newer ones. I was in London (ostensibly to go to school) in 1981, and my first tube ride was on the Northern Line from Gatwick to Finchley (Friern-Barnet), where my host family lived. Unfortunately, I got mixed up and wound up in “Chalk Farm” (how embarrassing!) on a different branch of the line, but later realized that that’s where the “Roundhouse” was, where Pink Floyd played before anyone had heard of them, or knew what “psychedelic” meant.
After riding the tube for a few months, I discovered the bus, which went past “Ally Paly” and through Muswell Hill, where I desperately hoped to catch a glimpse of Ray Davies (I didn’t). I’d get off at King’s Cross Station, and walk about a half mile to the “University of London School of Pharmacy,” which sounds impressive, but was actually where there was a surplus of classroom space for ordinary American students, who were wandering around wondering what we were doing there.
Thanks for bringing back “tube memories!” 🤣