Music for Everyone, Fit for No One (or, we wish you an alien christmas because our CD collection doesn't stretch far enough to hit reality)

The music playing at Flagstaff Station yesterday as I got off the train to go to work was irritating on so many levels. A badly-drawn instrumental version of that Christmas song "Sleigh Ride". I think that's what it's called. The one that prattles on brightly about being a wonderful time to go on a sleigh ride together with you.

As I went up the escalator I ranted in my head. Well, no, actually, it's a really bad time to go on a sleigh ride, either together with you or alone, seeing as it is the middle of fucking summer and the closest snow around here is ... oh, in the Northern Hemisphere (well, strictly speaking, there's probably snow up the top of, say, Mount Kosciusko, but sleigh riding down the peak of a mountain would probably cause a bit of vertigo). I know, this sort of thing perhaps shouldn't bother me. Yes, it really does. No, I'm not such a complete literalist that I can't function in society. The ranting goes deeper than that.

Forgive me my whingeing blatherings but I have problems with being bombarded with images of snow and holly when that has never been my experience of Christmas. Why must the world be so pre-packaged? I'm tired of being bombarded by societal visuals and audios which bear no resemblance to anything I experience. It angers me enough to ... oh, I dunno - write a blog post about it.

It could be argued, however, that the music playing in the morning was preferable to the shite they were playing when I return tripped the train that night. A badly-drawn instrumental version of "Chuck E's in Love". Oh, my.

Lift your musical game, Connex. While you're there, put more trains on the Sydenham line and less on the Craigieburn line. It's not really rocket science. The Sydenham trains are packed, so inevitably I have my nose stuck in someone's armpit if I get the earlier train. The Craigieburn line has vacant seats. Get a goddamned clue. Maybe the music you're forced to listen to is frying your brain.

If I was really proactive, I would buy Flagstaff Station some new music for Christmas. But I'm sure clause 7.32(1)(a) of some rules and regulations somewhere would prohibit it for some unnamed fear or other. Probably ultimately to do with money.

We are suffocating under our rules and regulations. As a society, we're as alienated from our public spaces as we are from ourselves and each other. I guess public spaces are a better reflection than we wish to admit. I feel another blog post brewing ...