I had a few thoughts on the subway which I chose to stifle. I did this so I could write about it extemporaneously in this journal.

I was listening to my edited version of Beck's album "One Foot in the Grave." I say "edited" because I cut out the two obnoxious songs that ruin the consistent mellowness.

In one of the earlier songs in the album, Beck sings these lyrics:

Get yourself a pistol
Get yourself a dog
Stay up all night gettin' drunk
Sleepin' on a hollow log

Great lyrics.

So I thought about the line "get yourself a dog."

I thought about dog ownership. Which led me to think about that it is easy to get a dog. That is because there are lots of them in kennels and shelters. It was sad to think about all the dogs in the shelters in their little cages with the poop-through cage floors, and the lack of attention, and the lack of space.

Then I though about the way we treat the dogs we obtain. It seems to me people want dogs to know that the world is a good place. We walk up to them and pet them, and often talk to them as we would talk to a baby.

Then I wondered why we don't treat people the same way. Maybe because people are not so easily persuaded.

Now I wonder if people are that easily persuaded.

We can think about dogs being thrilled that they are being fed and treated by the higher lifeforms that are their masters. They don't know how it is that the food comes into their bowls. The dog feels blessed to be constantly in the presence of this magical, higher being that is myseriously is able to feed it, and provide for the rest of its survival needs.

Do people act the same way? When we're in the presence of powerful people, we like to hear nice words about how good the country is, and how we're all "good boys" and "good girls." We're the greatest nation in the world.

But forget this infantile political observation. I think the really important observation is that we care more about how the dog feels about the world than we do the human. It is not simply to placate the dog, as it is in politics. We really care about the doggy. Yet the homeless person (adult) does not easily rouse our sympathies. Why is a puppy more compelling?

Maybe it has to do with the intelligence level of a dog. I have often pondered that an animal's fear must often be far worse than a human's fear. This is because pf their inability to rationalize and understand. If I break my leg, and no one is around, I know that eventually I will get helped. I also know that a broken leg is not going to kill me, regardless of the intense pain. An animal does not know they will be helped. They may not know that the injury isn't fatal. Or maybe they don't know the pain will be temporary (then again, they probably have memories about the temporality of pain). We know. The animal does not. If we are in the middle of the the wilderness, far from civilization, and then we break our leg, then we are probably a lot more like the dog. But even then we can conjure up lots of things in our mind. God. Humor. Meaning. Curiosity. Distraction.

So, first a dog is easily persuaded that the world is great. Second, a dog in distress is more distressing to us due to it's inability to rationalize and understand.

Then another factor, and possibly the most important factor, is the dog's willingness to reciprocate intimacy. We like dogs because we know they will like us, because they like everybody that likes them and treats them well (for the most part). The dog easily rewards our friendliness with friendliness. People also often reward other people in the same way. But people are less trusting. If every time you gave a pan-handler money, they gave you heart-felt gratitude, then you might do it all the time. But they don't always give heart-felt gratitude (and this is not to say they should).

So perhaps the intimacy plays a bigger role. But maybe its more simple. Dogs are cute. People are not. Dogs will let you pet them. They are furry. People don't want you to touch them (unless you're hot). Nor do you want to touch them (unless they're hot). It is part aesthetic, part custom, part fear, part rationality.

This all may seem pretty awful, as I've been comparing the indigent to dogs. I think the reader understands that I'm not trying to equate the two by any means.



Then, on the subway, I also realized that you never know what you're interrupting when you try to talk to someone wearing headphones. They could be having any number of musical experiences that you could never appreciate. All you see is a person standing silently. Yet they may have an alternate universe flowing into their skulls. Not only are you bugging someone that has to make extra effort to communicate with you (taking the headphones off, turning down the volume, etc.), but you are shaking them from a potentially emotional ride, or simply a good groove.

But then again, as I am one of those headphone-wearing subway people, I also do not think I should be allowed to shirk my civic responsibilies just because I happen to have an iPod. It may be a disinsentive to those who might seek my audience, but it shouldn't be a suit of armor.


Forgive the grammar, spelling, sentence structure, paragraph structure. This is after 3 beers, and purposefully extemporaneous... and a little stream-of-consciousness.