Operating Heavy Machinery With a Side of Proust.
You know what makes sense? Reading while walking. At sidewalk rush hour. In New York. (I know we’ve been through this, just bear with me.)
I’m (not) willing to overlook the collective entitlement that smears itself over every generation in America, but when you take the stance that you can maneuver busy sidewalks with no eyes or mind- I think we’re going a bit far, yeah?
This lil diddy of a habit irks me beyond belief, right up there with whipping out your mobile device at the top of a crowded subway stairwell and um, being in New York in general.
But for the lack of a hipster, pretentious, over vocab’d way to say this: Put the fucking book down.
People who know me know I love to read, I can tune out anything as I fall into a book- reading is my oxygen. But luckily all that reading has made me smart enough to realize I CAN’T DEFY THE MACHINERY NEEDED TO WALK!
So I guess my question is this: Are you learning about normal human function while blushing through pages of Suburban S&M with a man called Grey? Does all your pageboy cap wearing Proust quoting as you sip your fair trade espresso teach you anything on the value of the human eye? If so, apply it.
The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.