What’s that in your hand? (and what it might say about you)

I noticed something quite fascinating these past few days when I was in Milan. It is the ‘in’ thing to do to walk around with a book in your hand. For the Italians I saw doing this I think it was simply an object they carried so that if they had some time to spare (on the metro, sitting in a cafe,whilst they were waiting for someone/something etc.) then they had something to keep them occupied. Yet I thought that the simple action of carrying a book in their hand made them look more intellectual – like they were well read and had a curious nature.

Carrying an object conveys something about people I believe. If you carry an umbrella and it isn’t yet raining then you are a well organised and well prepared individual. If you carry a Filofax you have places to go and people to see. If you sit on public transport listening to music it indicates you don’t want to engage in conversation or interaction with those around you. If you carry a coffee in one hand and an iPhone in the other you look like you are rushing to a meeting. You get my point. The choice we make in the objects we carry says something about us. If we carry a map we don’t look like a local. If we carry a camera we look like a photographer or even, indeed, a tourist. If a man carries a bunch of flowers on the train we presume they are for his lover, or in fact his mother. If a woman, on the other hand, carries a bunch of flowers on the train we are left puzzled…who might they be for?

I know my shoelace is untied, thank you.

I don’t know about you but sometimes I notice that my shoe lace is untied, yet I keep on walking. I simply cannot be all that bothered to stop, bend down and tie it back up. Sometimes I will go as far as tucking the laces into my shoes, but I am always slightly reluctant to tie them back up. It probably sounds silly. I know I should think more about the possibility of tripping if I do not tie them back up; but I suppose maybe I am just lazy.

It then slightly frustrates me when well-meaning kind strangers approach me informing me of the fact that my shoelace is undone. Instead of telling them I am quite aware of this fact, I smile politely whilst thanking them, bend down and tie my shoelace up (the very action I should have done in the first place).

The most boring text ever.

Sitting on the tube the other day I was sitting near 3 Australian girls. They were discussing all kinds of things: mice in their apartments, baked beans, jobs and then they spoke about something which intrigued me.

The most boring text ever.

The message they described was a text message which leads to nothing that interesting and usually initiates a standardised reply. It goes something like this:

Text: Hey, how are you? x

Standardised response: I’m good thanks,how are you? x

Text: I’m good thanks, what have you been up to? x

Standardised response: Not much, same old same old…………x

bla bla bla.

The use of the ‘how are you?’ question rarely leads to an answer with meaning, I find.

Brits usually just reply politely with a standardised response such as: ‘i’m good/fine thanks how are you?’

We seem to restrain ourselves from saying how we really feel when we are asked how we are, don’t you think?

The rise of the Super-child.

Okay, I know that recently there has been an influx of super-hero movies on at the cinemas (namely Man of Steel, the latest Star Trek , to name a few) but it seems there has also been a rise of the super-child. Nowadays child geniuses, baby beauty pageant stars and baby ballroom dancers are everywhere on TV. Every other act on Britian’s Got Talent consists of some cute looking talented youngster.

I understand that these children portrayed in the media are gifted and talented but is all the exposure they get really good for their wellbeing? At the age of 8 is it right to instill such a sense of competitiveness in a child and allow them to wear make up and high heels in competitions and beauty pageants? It supports the idea that having a particular talent in something makes you superior to others around you. And unless the child remains humble I am not sure that encouraging this competition and superiority is a good thing.

I think children should be acknowledged and supported for their talents but I am just not sure whether I think it should be turned into a TV series and made money from. What are your thoughts?

Lemons and headscarves .

I thought the age old nursery rhyme was titled ‘oranges and lemons’ but it seems as of today that I should have been singing ‘lemons and headscarves’. Today I was sitting on the train and an old lady was sitting opposite me wearing a headscarf tied in a knot under her chin. I thought that the cliche of old ladies wearing headscarves wasn’t so prevalent in today’s society but perhaps it is.  Across from me two men sat drinking cans of lager and one of them set about peeling what I thought was a lemon.

How very strange to be eating a lemon, I thought to myself. I looked again and despite the skin being more yellow in colour it was not in fact a lemon, or a grapefruit, but an orange. A bog-standard, nothing-special-about-it orange.

And there I was thinking I was witnessing some slightly unusual behaviour on the train!

The Q(ueue) Factor

No it’s not the X Factor. But there certainly is an art to queuing. Having arrived at the Wimbledon Tennis Grounds at 8am this morning I was most surprised to discover that I might potentially have to wait until mid-afternoon until I survived the queue and made it into the site! Luckily, I was in good company so was kept entertained and managed to get into the grounds at 12.30pm- after only a 4 and a half hour wait.

It’s clever like that. Airlines and Ticket Offices tell you that you may have to wait an incredibly long time to arrive where you want to go. Then they surprise you by telling you that this wait has been slightly reduced. You find yourself feeling rather content that you only have to wait 8 hours instead of 12, or 2 hours instead of 4. This is a very intelligent move…customer frustration is decreased and long queues become all a part of the ‘experience’ / reduced wait time becomes a sign of ‘excellent service’.

Slightly confusing when we come to think about it, no?

Public transport, private lives

I’m not sure why I find that there is so much behaviour to observe on public transport. Yet, it is the one place where anyone of any nationality, race, sexual background or age can board without question. Society has come a long way since the Irish segregation of Catholics and Protestants and the segregation of race in the Apartheid. One day I’ll see a small Yorkshire terrier boarding the train, the next a blind person boarding the tube. Then I can’t help noticing a woman doing her make up on the tube in the presence of 50 people in her carriage, tourists trying to squeeze themselves on with the largest suitcases you’ve ever seen and numerous people trying to read broadsheet newspapers (when there is barely enough room to stand, let alone stretch your arms out into someone else’s face). Every day I am amazed by the patience and impatience I see, the kindness of strangers and the aggravation and anger I witness in the behaviour of others. Despite being a place where anyone and everyone mix and share the same service I am astounded that so many people can be so anonymous on public transport. We are just faces in a sea of commuters and travellers and I bet that I would be most surprised to learn that each day I am sharing public transport with people who have so many life stories and experiences which I couldn’t even begin to imagine.

When someone boards the train with a bunch of flowers I often wonder who they might be for. But, I will never know the recipient of those flowers. Only in my imagination will I be able to picture the stories that these faces have to share…

The adult scooter craze.

More than once recently I have witnessed a strange craze. I thought that it was something only a few adults had taken to. But, I was wrong. Walking to the tube each day I have seen the most bizarre thing. Adults riding scooters.

I mean I thought it was strange seeing Francis on the UK TV series Made in Chelsea riding a skateboard around in his business suit. But, seeing adults on child sized scooters is quite something else. I guess it gets you from A to B and you can get somewhere faster on a scooter than if you were simply walking.

Maybe I should follow suit and get my own scooter soon!

Hot and sticky. No, I’m not talking about sticky toffee pudding.

8am. Tube by tube roll pass. With each one I hope that there will be a little more breathing space when I get on . Yet there is not even any room for a dog to stand let alone a human! 8.15am. 15 minutes later and I am still standing on the same platform. I contemplate going back one tube stop in order to get to where I need to go. It seems ridiculous the need to go back to go forward. Guess that’s what they say: One step forward two steps back. But the tube works in reverse: One stop backward two stops forward. Might get where I need to be if I’m lucky. A request to get there on time might be one demand too many.

Today was a humid day and forced to eventually board a carriage with people packed like tinned sardines I could not have felt more aggravated. Aggravated that I felt sweaty and unclean before 9am. Aggravated that I had to wait for multiple tubes to get where I needed to go. What’s more I had to stand almost on the feet of the person next to me because there was barely any floor space to stand on.

I find the tube the oddest experience. It is such a hive of impatience and silence. There are so many people in the same enclosed space as you, yet no one says a word to someone they don’t know (unless they have fallen into them with the movement of the carriage or need to get past them on their entry into or exit from the carriage). Everyone has an anonymity to them. People hide behind their kindles, magazines and broadsheet newspapers. They are engulfed in the music playing on their iPods. It seems that people are scared to sit in a crowded carriage unoccupied.

I sure know that I avoid eye contact with the person sitting opposite me on the tube if I can because I don’t want to seem strange and it just doesn’t seem the ‘done-thing-to-do’. But there are only so many adverts to look at and only so many times you can count the tube stops til you can escape from the madness on the map….

The ‘pass me your lighter’ phenomenon

Ashley Smith by Jason Lee Parry for Oyster Magazine

We came to a halt. My friend and I had been walking down the street together and she stopped all of a sudden. Not because we were lost, or wanted to take a look at a shop window, but because she needed to borrow a cigarette lighter. She walked past a man standing in the doorway of a building who was on the phone. She signalled at him for a lighter and smiling he happily handed his over. The air of casualness about this interaction intrigued me. There was no sense of awkwardness or dismissal.

It seemed that their joint love of nicotine bonded them and broke down the social boundaries that usually deter us from approaching strangers. If someone I do not know comes up to me I instantly feel wary (when in fact they are probably not about to mug me, ask for money or chat me up and they are instead asking for the time or for directions).

It seems between smokers these barriers in social interaction are broken when lighting up a cigarette. At the smoking area of a club it is regular practice to chat to those around you and interact with each other whilst asking for cigarettes or lighters.

I am not a smoker myself, but I think that I definitely have something to learn from the way they interact over shared resources.