Soaking it in on the train

These last two months in New York are really getting to me. It feels like I'm waiting in a long line at an amusement park right now. The anticipation of getting back to Chicago and beginning a new chapter in my life is constantly on my mind. Currently my situation is that I must save as much money as possible so that I can move. However, it has become increasingly difficult living in this expensive city and also trying to spend my time wisely while still here. Two more months, two more, I keep telling myself. Why am I rushing? I need to be doing more "soaking". 

So, last night on my way home after I heard the news about PA, I decided to do just that. I began to soak in as much around me as possible. Luckily it was raining so my clothes were soaking, as well as my hair and it definitely helped the situation. I sat on the 2,3 going towards Harelm, staring at the orange colored seats that remind me of the 70's. An elderly man sat across from me. On the opposite side of the train was a young man with saggy pants, sunglasses over his eyes, and music blaring for us all to hear through his headphones. The elderly man began to whistle a song I couldn't quite make out. As he sat whistling he glanced around the train amused. He seemed so content. My thoughts flashed back to my grandfather (PA) and how whistling seems to have become a thing only from the past. Whereas, the young guy in the corner was nodding his head to songs of booty shakin' and lickin'. I tuned out the profanity and heard only the whistling along with the noise from the train. I stared again at the orange seats and thought of a time that has come and gone. I thought about the generation gap between the young guy, the old man, and myself. I don't know their beliefs, value systems, or who their parents were. With all of that aside, the whistling generation is dying off and almost obliterated from this earth. The generation where things seemed much more simple (even though I'm sure it wasn't). To me whistling is a manifestation of contentment and maybe the passing of time. As much as I would have liked to live in a time where men were gentlemen, women wore fancy hats, and everyone could trust their neighbor, I live right now. I live in a time where booty shakin' is very important to this culture. Too bad I can't shake it like a polaroid picture.