Had a pretty interesting train ride in today. For some reason, the entire senior citizen populace of the northern suburbs seemed to be on my carriage and their conversations were quiet fascinating to eavesdrop on. One woman was telling her friends about how difficult it was to come by lollies during the War (what with the food rationing and the air raid sirens and D-Days), and how she used to spend her pocket money on getting cans of condensed milk. Another was talking about how infatuated her son was with the girl next door when he was young. And then they all laughed in that old lady way. You know the one I mean. Stuff watching those documentaries where they interview people about their lives– just get on my train! The men were talking about sport, which was less interesting, but they were all being blokey, which was pretty funny.
I really do love eavesdropping on the train. You pick up some interesting stories and some amazing one-liners. And it’s a skill that you get better at- being able to mentally hone in on a conversation that might be happening at the other end of the carriage or behind you, against the sound of the train noises and other people. Or in today’s case, the noise created by this fellow that hopped on the train and kindly brought music to share with everybody. Unfortunately (as is the case), it was crap. Invest in some earphones, buddy. Eugh.
After a rather pleasant session at the gym (with a soundtrack of Led Zeppelin, Simon and Garfunkel, Muse and Kasabian), I had my two-hour dose of Russian, which wasn’t too bad today. I sat next to the window, which was quite excellent for looking out of, as windows generally tend to be. This was the fifth floor of the building facing the park across the road and the city in the distance, so it was better than some. We were told about some Russian linguist who went through 200,000 Russian words and formulated tables and charts or something like that to create a theory of the language’s grammar and I don’t really know why I’m continuing with this sentence, because I frankly don’t know what this man achieved through his massive effort- apart from, perhaps, having a good excuse for not having to talk to women. He did live with his mother.
Another lecture, and then I met up with Josiah and we went to the Queensbury with Matt for wedges and beer. How university student of us. We discussed music and people on trains and then I boarded a tram (conveniently across the road) to Southbank for Maxim’s school concert. He started at VCASS this year, which is the Victorian College of the Arts’ secondary school. It was a pretty big step up from regular school music concerts, what with it being a specialist selective school for people with talents and the kinds of voices that shatter glasses. It was a vocal concert, but there was also a singer accompanied by a chamber music ensemble and another who sang with a jazz band. It was pretty good stuff.