The Isolation of the iPod Generation (or "How I unplugged my music and started to enjoy bus journeys")

As I get the bus each morning, I'm struck by how many people have tiny little wires leading out from their ears into a small contraption in their pockets, staring blankly ahead of them, oblivious of thoughts outside the pathetically deep melody of music they are inevitably listening to, sometimes turning their heads towards the window, trying to subconsciously recreate the emotional emancipation that a soft tune brings in a dozen really crap feel-good films, ignorant of their ultimate insignificance and thinking self-centred pities, pretending the chords are playing just for them. I'm also struck by the alarming number of overweight people on board said bus, but that is another story. An outside alien observer would consider these headphones some vital sort of life support machine or simply part of our biology. Its absurd. I even know somebody at university that only takes his out during a lecture, ostensibly so as not to appear rude.

I like music, though. I like sad tunes and piano performances that strike something bittersweet in my heart. I simply don't get on with these tiny little earphones. Rather than enjoying my more high brow tunes, I find that I'm concentrating more on the extreme discomfort. It is like somebody is trying to shove the tip of one of those novelty jumbo pencils into my ear drum. The headphones I use on my laptop at home are plush, padded, comfy devices that might well look clunky, but at least don't deafen me with point blank renditions of Adele.

What is somewhat depressing is how much people depend on music for entertainment when they lack a book or decent company. Are bus journeys and train journeys, car trips with parents and aeroplane flights so boring that we're reduced to stoically ignoring those about us because we're all so bloody uptight and judgemental? When I stand up to exit the bus at my stop, I feel the eyes of the passengers behind me burning into my spine, waiting for something embarrassing to happen, like the vehicle's sudden halt throwing me to the floor. Its like being in primary school all over again and shaking your head at some kid from another year group who makes a fool of himself. I want to see community spirit and laughter on buses. I want to meet new people and giggle about suburban life. I want to stand up and tell jokes to a carriage of people on the train whilst on my way to Plymouth, then blast some music out of some portable speakers rather than pander to the lonely iPods. Just something to turn the sheer boredom of sitting around into something social and positive that doesn't involve plugging in music to unplug life.

And boy do I hate that phrase.