Here we are right smack in the middle of those dog days of summer, named by the Greeks for the conjunction of Sirius, the dog star, with the sun. Known for its hot, sultry, often unbearable weather from July to early September, “Dog Days” was thought to be an evil time – when the “seas boiled, wine turned sour, dogs grew mad, and all creatures became languid causing to man burning fevers, hysterics, and phrensies.”*
It was not, as I had thought, named for Labs lazing about in the shade in midsummer. You learn something new every day, no?
Why just yesterday on my way to Washington via Amtrak I learned that the mother of the middle-aged woman who was seated a couple of rows in front of me was in the hospital. I learned this from listening, no rather hearing her rather lengthy conversation, first with her mother, then with her father and then with the nurse who was called in from the hall. “Did they know she had called last night?” she asked over and over and over again.
“I don’t want to hear this,” I thought, unable to concentrate on the book I had saved expressly for the ride down. Does she know we are all listening, that we can’t help but listen? Where does she think she is? Alone in her damn bedroom?
“Take a deep breath,” I tell myself after I envision leveling her with the hardback in my hand. My good angel, ever on call, pulls me back just in time from the human-hating abyss I sometimes fall into. Her mother IS ill, I remind myself. I’d probably do the same. And there, she’s off the phone. Cool it with your intolerance.
But just as I settle back down anxious to be with the inimitable Tennessee Williams, my fellow traveler makes another call – this time to her friend. Forty-five minutes later, I and the other 80 or so passengers have learned that she is on the way to DC to help her daughter with the children, an inconvenient time, of course, because her mother is in the hospital which we already know, don’t we?
We are apprised of what each of the three children is doing this summer, and the fact that her son-in-law has been traveling a lot lately. We hear all about the daughter’s new responsibilities at work due to layoffs at the company, and what with the children’s schedule and the husband gone most of the time, it seems that the daughter is quite stressed, out of sorts. “Not as out of sorts as we are,” I mutter to myself. The gall.
You see, I don’t want to know about this woman’s daughter, her son-in-law, her grandchildren, even her sick mother. I don’t want to know anything about her. It may seem surprising coming from an inveterate eavesdropper, but there is something about a phone conversation imposed upon me in a public space that sends me up the wall. It is uncomfortable at best – a rude, selfish, egocentric, unconscious imposition on others’ quiet enjoyment at worse. As my mother used to say upon occasion in regard to what she deemed proper behavior, “Some things are not done in public!”
So right she was. There are simply things one does not do in public. We don’t pick our nose, scratch our behind, or scream fire. And I’d like to add to that – converse at length on a cell phone in a confined space from which there is no escape. Call me old fashioned or just plain cranky, but having to listen to someone else’s inane chit chat can make me barking mad. Meaner than a junkyard … well, you get it. A bad-tempered bitch or not – those devilish “Dog Days” aside, I am begging with my most humane heart, “Please, put a muzzle on it.”
*John Brady, Clavis Calendaria, 1813.
Sixties Chick 
August 21, 2009 at 1:16 pm |
There is a word for people like your fellow train mate…arrogance!! This simply would not have happened in many other countries. As much as I “attempt” to practice mindfulness, and loving kindness, the arrogance of some of my community is beyond tolerance. Thank you for this!!!
August 21, 2009 at 1:53 pm |
Life was so much more tolerable without cell phones…but this is the age of electronic devices…you could have sold earplugs to the other passengers if you were an entrepreneur…
August 21, 2009 at 4:03 pm |
Unwanted cell phone conversations are everywhere. Trains, planes, restaurants even in the street. I first thought that I was surrounded by an increase of people with schizophrenia talking to themselves in the streets, until I noticed wires coming from their ears!
Solution: use the Quiet Car, or use ear plugs or earphones. Because it is not going to change.
Renee
August 21, 2009 at 4:55 pm |
Of course there are more ancient corollaries. Many years ago, as I was taking the train to NY, I happened to sit in front of a curious couple. Fairly quickly it became clear they were not, in fact a couple, but sitting together by happenstance. The gentleman was well-dressed and in his late 60s. The woman was in her late 30s and very attractive. Over the course of the next hour I learned she was in mourning for her recently deceased husband, left with two small children. Her husband went from diagnosis to death in 3 months from some form of skin cancer. The gentleman was sensitive and caring, asking good questions without prying – eliciting an enormously compelling and heartbreaking story.
“But I’ve been talking for so long. What do you do?”
“I publish a magazine.”
“That’s interesting. What is it?”
“Screw Magazine.”
“Really! What is that?”
“It’s a pornographic magazine and advocate for First Amendment rights.”
Without a trace of shame or irony he went on to describe his work. They had a most animated conversation worthy of any pair of close friends.
When we arrived at Penn Station, they parted ways with a warm handshake and thanks on both sides.
This predates cell phones by a decade or more. I share your irritation with unconscious travelers with no sense of the difference between personal and public space. But I can’t tell you how grateful I am to have had this voyeuristic experience. It stays with me almost 25 years later as if it were yesterday. Certainly this was a whole conversation, rather than the half conversations we are subject to by cell phone users (although I have overheard a few memorable of those). If I had been sitting one row farther I would have heard, at most, a low buzz of indecipherable talk. Easy to ignore.
But what sticks to me was this moment of intense intimacy between two people from so disparate a range of experiences it is hard to imagine it happening.
Sometimes the overheard has its rewards.
August 21, 2009 at 6:41 pm |
Do you think the people don’t realize that everyone is being forced to listen? Or that they simply don’t care? It seems most likely that people are just plain rude!
August 21, 2009 at 9:11 pm |
It happens that I read this when I was already feeling insanely intolerant of too many obnoxious folks. ‘Twas hoping for a feel good experience. Oh well.
Maybe you could have grabbed a pen and paper, written a good WTF lesson and passed it along to this douch-bag babe. These invaders of our peace have got to be educated!
August 21, 2009 at 10:22 pm |
Next time, I promise.
August 23, 2009 at 1:26 pm |
With Back to School Night approaching this week, I now feel entitled to say, prior to my opening speech, “TURN OFF YOUR CELL PHONES”, right? (Oh, I will also add “please”). I never did that before, but why not?
Thanks for giving me the idea!
September 6, 2009 at 8:00 pm |
mayzee! where’s the next blog?? are you too busy publishing your book and being famous?