Come as you were...

I catch the train to work, now, a grand 12 minutes of relaxing against the second door of the first car of the second half of the train.

Yesterday morning, as always, I was leaning back, headphones in, the sounds of Mana (I have a theory this will help me learn Spanish) drowning out all and sundry. Most of the old folk were sitting down. Incredibly enough, the private school kids had given up their seats this time, and four of them were clustered around the middle part between the doors – two boys, two girls.

On of the boys was doing much the same as me – leaning back against the wall as he watched his friend with thinly disguised disgust. Said friend was busily chatting up an All Hallows girl (whose friend was looking similarly unimpressed on the other side of the carriage).

I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I was sure it was inane and annoying, so I just glanced from time to time.

A strange look from a fellow commuter, about my age, caused me to turn my music off for a second.

“....so, yeah, I found it last night,” the boy was saying, “It’s sort of laid back, maybe like Jack Johnson a bit? And he sort of looks like that guy from Idol? The surfer?” Everything was a question.

“Yeah, right, cool. What was that song? Teen something? Is there a version of that?” comes the reply.

“Smells Like Teen Spirit, no, it’s other stuff, but it’s not bad – called Unplugged.”

Right, so that’s what the other guy was laughing at. Well, not me. More power to the younguns I say – took me a lot longer to recognise the value of Led Zeppelin.

Then the kicker:

“So, what other cool cds does your dad have?”

Was it really necessary, that comment, just to spite me? I turned my Rock en Español back on.

Which is probably dad rock in Mexico.