Bus Ride Ruminations: iPod chic, or iPod sheep?

For the last few days I’ve been taking the bus. The morning bus isn’t too interesting. It takes a round-about course through Ft. Richmond and picks up some people going to work downtown. The inbounds are a few working stiffs like myself. Workin’ early.

But to the catch the bus home I stand on Dafoe, in front of the School of Music. It is the of the U of M transit hub, and I watch all the students come and go. Today there were three gorgeous African girls who smelled amazing, and a more than a few Asian couples all goo-goo eyes over each other. There was a nerdy trio of not-very-attractive guys—Physics types—getting their white sneakers wet and dirty in the melting mud. And there was the stench of spring; a pungent soup of sod and soil, wafting on the breeze.

I was older than most of the students, but my white earbuds made me inconspicuous. Everywhere I looked there were white earbuds. I started to feel like a complete conformist, and I wondered to myself: “Why am I so apposed to conformity? Why do I hate myself right now for having white earbuds?”

Sitting on the bus and watching Pembina roll by I philosophized that my aversion to conformity is rooted in my upbringing; but I retain my abhorrence because conformity leads to a lack of questioning yourself about your values. People who conform often do so without thinking about the practices they’ve decided to adopt or support. They are ripe for the manipulation of the would-be puppet masters who play them.

Nonetheless, I admit that it’s weird for me to feel self-conscious about having white earbuds. But I do. I’m very self-conscious about public displays of wealth. I am such a fierce opponent of BLING that I feel hypocritical owning any nice things.

The other thing I thought, was: “Wow, we looked like a bunch of sheep.” I wanted to walk up to someone else in white earbuds and go: “Bah-ah-ah-ah…!”

One guy I noticed had painted his bud strings a very light green. I figured him for an artist, because he had a large art-board something wrapped up in brown paper. I too painted my last pair of earbuds, but I used a blue Sharpie and the ink didn’t dry on the surface. I had the blue Sharpie Midas touch for weeks.

My friend Dr. Hodge laughs at the goofy things I do so consciously to not be associated with anything popular. He thinks its comical that I’m so virulently non-conformist; and I would have to agree, at least some of the time.

But I always think of myself as setting an example, even though I’m probably not ever. The majority of the time nobody’s looking at me going: “Look at how he lives, isn’t that interesting! He won’t wear anything with a Polo pony or a Swoosh on it.” No I don’t expect that, but I do think the higher road is to live free from such marks of distinction. Most of these companies are entities who’s morals I don’t subscribe to in the first place, much less the notion that wearing them will make me better somehow.

Yes I use Apple products, but I was weaned on Apple, it’s not my fault. I enjoy the products very much, I just hate the marketing that goes with them. And I can’t fully explain why, except to say that it is somehow exploitive, and when it emphasizes the BLING, the “Look at Me! I’m in every movie and TV show!” I get perturbed.

But whatever, it’s not worth the $2 I spent on a bus ride to ponder my distain for white earbuds. In the meantime the seats are filled with all sorts of interesting student types, many cute girls among them. Winter is over, and it’s time to put one’s loopy philosophies away with the parkas.

**This article made me think of John Scoles' "House Coat Diaries," ergo the link.