While walking across the Quad, listening to the birds, the chimes from Crouse College, the random conversations of the people behind me (or next to me, or in front of me … so I’m a chronic eavesdropper), and even the omnipresent drilling, an overwhelming sense of calm trickles down my body. The breeze ruffles my hair, and the sun warms my skin.

Then I see someone walking toward me, staring blankly ahead. A thin white cord drops from each of his or her ears, and travels to some random orifice.

And bam! I want to race to him, leap up and tackle him, bags flying. Then take him down, rip the cords from his ears, yank the contraption from his body, and, ignoring the cries of protest, jump up and down on the pristine rectangle, shattering the clean, white pieces and sending the rest flying into the grass.

Must that iPod-bot immerse himself in his ‘Garden State’ soundtrack every … single … moment of his life? Can we even take a five-minute break to enjoy the natural sounds around us, ever? We sleep without music and live without it while using the bathroom. But that’s about it. People listen to music in our rooms, in the dining halls, in the car and even while taking a shower. And with an iPod or Discman, we listen to music while working in a computer cluster or while taking a plane ride. That I’ve got no problem with; rock on.

iPod-walkers, however, tune themselves out from everyone, and everything, around them as if they can’t handle the walk without pretending they’re a character in a movie, sending the message that they do not wish anyone to disturb them. Maybe they need to find their Zen in The Shins or Redman. But I like to find my spiritual connection in a more earthly place.

I don’t hike. I don’t work the fields to rummage my own food. I don’t even know where my food comes from. I never see wildlife other than a random squirrel or Joan Deppa’s dog, and I don’t often lie on the ground staring at the sky. Call me crazy, but I feel grounded and somehow connected to whatever is left of the ‘natural’ world when all five of my senses, especially hearing, are tuned into my surroundings on my little jaunt to class.

I love music. I cannot sit in my room, or my car or office with some sort of music playing. I dance to anything, and even the own songs in my head. But I like to take a break in those very rare moments I am away from any sort of musical device and listen to the music surrounding me, even if it’s punctuated by those rather loud jackhammers.

Published on September 20, 2004 at 12:00 pm