Natural Habitat
The tunnel at my L-stop (we don't even call the subway the subway in Chicago, you see) has iPod ads featuring silhouettes of cool people ROCKING THE FUCK OUT to their iPods. You've seen them, I'm sure, the ubiquitous symbol of musical elan.
If life were like commercials, I'd put on my iPod, as would about half of the other people at the train stop, and we'd have a party. Funky music would engulf us. Sketch artists would drop their pads and shimmy. Street musicians would bob their heads, instantly tapping into the rush hour world groove. We'd probably end up dancing to the same rhythm, albeit to different songs (the iPod being a tool of ORIGINALITY, as it were). We would all be hip, young, with it, expressing ourselves through moving to music made by other people expressing themselves.
But it looks more like this...looking at the ads across the tracks.
If life were like commercials, I'd put on my iPod, as would about half of the other people at the train stop, and we'd have a party. Funky music would engulf us. Sketch artists would drop their pads and shimmy. Street musicians would bob their heads, instantly tapping into the rush hour world groove. We'd probably end up dancing to the same rhythm, albeit to different songs (the iPod being a tool of ORIGINALITY, as it were). We would all be hip, young, with it, expressing ourselves through moving to music made by other people expressing themselves.
But it looks more like this...looking at the ads across the tracks.