@elliotbnewcombjr,
"Incidentally, I was just lying in bed the other day, remembering how I was able to transport myself to another place while riding the subway to and from NYC and Brooklyn everyday. 1970’s, nyc over 8 million, horribly crowded subways, very few air-conditioned trains, and when that crowded, asses to elbows, track and brake noise, odors, OMG.
I would close my eyes, put my brain in ’I’m not here’ mode, think about .... Then, you had to have a clock, like a Cicada, to ’wake’ yourself, break the trance, to get off at your stop. 3 changes from NYC to Brooklyn (living near Pratt Institute). And that reminded me of the period when I could simply decide when I wanted to wake up, say 5:20 am. Just think it, bingo, eyes open at 5:20. Can’t do it now, but for years, any time I chose, bingo, awake."
Yes, it’s a weird habit that. I could do it once upon a time. Each morning I’d open my eyes and the clock would say more or less what I imagined.
Nowadays, my restful sleep seems to happen in the last couple of hours before waking, if at all, and without prompting I could very easily oversleep.
It was a good thing my daily treks on the London underground happened during the 80s - my late teens/early 20s - I couldn’t take it now. The trains were often hot, noisy and very crowded and back then you were obliged to give up your seat to a woman or an elderly person. I wonder if they still do it now?
It’s also kind of strange how some background sounds are quite acceptable eg surface noise, birds singing, general low level hum etc and yet the sound of a tap dripping is almost painful.
Ditto the sound of my wife’s kitchen blender - a horrible racket. She doesn’t seem bothered, whereas I’m checking noise levels on everything from fridges, washing machines, vacuum cleaners etc before buying them.
Voices too. The only less than harmonious ones (Dylan, Costello, Springsteen) I can listen to are usually surrounded by lavish production techniques.
I’ve also gradually gone from listening mainly to punk, rock and pop to easy listening (Frank, Nat, Matt) and now seem to be heading towards the string sounds of Percy Faith, Frank Chacksfield, Syd Dale, Roger Roger etc.
Oh well, I don’t care. Image no longer matters as long as my tastes are still expanding and not contracting.
