Rant Against Earphones

This post may cost me a few friends, which, when you have as few as I do, is a serious issue, but it's something I believe in strongly. I hate it when people walk around listening to earphones. Bear with me.

Don't confuse my dislike of earphones with a dislike of music. I like music more than I like candy, even though it's more difficult to lure children into vans with music. I listen to and play music regularly. Music is not the issue. The issue is when people walk around using earphones, thus making me appear even more awkward than usual. If you're asking "Brendan, how is that possible?" I'd probably reply "How is it it possible that I can appear more awkward than usual, or how do earphones make me appear more awkward than usual?" If you're asking the first question, just know that it's possible. But if you're asking the second question, then get ready for my rant (please imagine that I have accosted a stranger in earphones and proceed to scream the following at him, because this is how it goes in my head...).

So how far are you walking that you need to have music lest you get bored? Is this a casual-walking marathon that has just been poorly publicized? And do the rules specifically stipulate that you are not allowed to talk to fellow competitors or take any interest in your surroundings? Also, how many songs can you even listen to on what I imagine is your six minute walk? Are you just going to pause whatever song you're listening to midway when you arrive at your destination, or are you going to try to find a song that is exactly as long as your hike will take? Maybe you should just listen to something like Hey Jude by the Beatles and just stop when they're all singing "na na na na."

I could go on and on, but I suppose I should explain the roots of this antipathy against earphones. You see, a good portion of my social life relies on chance encounters* with friends. The idea is that either I see my friend, or my friend sees me, one of us somehow attracts the other's attention, and then we hang out. This works great when both of us are paying attention to our surroundings, as opposed to something like, say, Blink-182**.

*borderline ambushes

**In fairness, if you're listening to Blink-182, I probably don't want to talk to you anyway.

Trouble begins once earphones get involved. It normally goes down something like this: I see a friend. I shout the friend's name. My friend keeps walking, because my friend is listening to loud music only he or she can hear. I call my friend's name again. This continues until I realize that the person is listening to music, and I just didn't know about it. Now that I've shouted really loudly a couple of times, people start looking at me, wondering where the noise is coming from and why the source is outside of an asylum without at least a straight jacket.

At this point, I have a few options, none of which is too attractive.

a) I can continue to shout louder and louder, hoping each time my friend will hear. But seeing as my friend is walking away by now, this isn't likely.

b) I can chase down my friend, full speed, and tap him on the shoulder. That's great, because people didn't think I was desperate enough already.

c) Explain to anyone who looks at me funny that the Borg has taken over my friend, and that resistance is futile. That must be why he isn't replying to me.

d) Have a nervous breakdown, and hope that someone will comfort me.

Compare this to what the casual observer would think if everything had gone according to plan, and after hailing my friend once, he or she came over to talk to me. See what a difference that would make to me? This is exactly why I can't stand earphones.

There is, however, one time when wearing earphones is acceptable. There have been countless times when my dignity has been saved thanks to them. These often occur on public transportation. The situation is this: I'm busy working up the courage to try to go talk to a pretty girl on the same train. This is difficult, because not only do I need to work up the courage, but I also need to dismiss all of the logical arguments against it (e.g. You will probably make a fool of yourself. What if she's a man? She'll probably bite your head off, etc.). It's at the pivotal moment right before I'm about to try to make conversation when I notice that she is wearing earphones. "Oh well," I tell myself. "Can't go talk to her. She's wearing earphones. Next time."

But seriously. Don't wear earphones for those five minute walks you go on. You're ruining my social life and my reputation as potentially sane.

Tragedy

Because of the nature of recent events, this post may strike a more serious, meditative tone than usual (because that's really challenging to do). But yes, this post is my meditation on tragedy.

The recent tragedy that occurred was that my bike was stolen. I don't really expect the company that printed "Save Darfur" shirts to start printing "Please give a nice, well-meaning college student his expensive bike back," but that's the reaction I'd like to see. Then I'd like to get it back. More realistically, whoever stole my bike will sell it for a few hundred dollars to some customer who may or may not know that it's stolen, but who definitely doesn't care. So, that's sad.

But is this bike theft a tragedy? And if so, why? I've provided a few examples of situations that could be called tragic; I'm curious to know which of these really is tragic, and if there's something that sets them apart from those that aren't. I've done some evaluations on them myself, see if you agree with my logic...

Rules: Determine if the situation is actually 'tragic.' Read my interpretations afterwards.
1) That was horrible! He died in a tragic hang gliding/sky diving accident!
2) Boy, that hole-puncher tragedy was the worst thing that happened in the office last year. I can't believe she lost a leg from that.
3) That game of railroad chicken ended tragically for everyone on roller-blades.
4)  Tragically, he choked on a peanut m&m. Saving him with the Heimlich maneuver was the work of a moment, but the peanut m&m was wasted.
5) Man, what a tragedy that was when I found out that girl I met at the party was my cousin!

Answers:
1) Not tragic. He knew what he was getting into when he started pretending he was a bird. If anything, this was a very informative learning experience, but of limited usefulness, because once the lesson absorbed (approximately when the ground absorbed him), his ability to apply what he learned drastically decreased.
2) Tragic. And puzzling. Really, who would have thought this could have happened? And now she has one less leg, and the hole puncher is all stained.
3) Not tragic. If anything, morbidly amusing for the wonderful mental image it can create.
4) ABSOLUTE TRAGEDY. Any time a peanut m&m is wasted, it is a tragedy. This seems self-explanatory.
5) Tragic. Presumably, there is one less beautiful girl out of the dating pool. In case she remains in the dating pool, the product of that love would probably be a tragedy, a lot like in Jude the Obscure. Ew.

What I'm driving at is that tragedy, like a good ambush,  contains an element of the unexpected; it can't just be something upsetting that happened. On the opposite side, comedy should contain an element of the expected. Take this cookie monster clip for example. How will it end? Without even clicking, you know the answer. He will eat cookies destructively. And you will, at the very least, chuckle, if you have a heart.

The funny thing about my bike theft is that in a way, I did expect it. As I was locking it up, I noticed that the rack wasn't attached to the ground, and thought that thieves could conceivably take the whole rack. In this light, my bike being stolen  was pure comedic genius. But on a slightly more profound level, I think it really was a tragedy. Yes, I had conceived that it could have been stolen, but I did NOT expect it. I naively didn't think anyone would do such a thing, and wasn't concerned about it. The tragedy here is partly that my bike was stolen unexpectedly, but mostly that I've unexpectedly lost a good bit of faith and trust for man.

Sorry to get all profound on you, it won't happen often.