Sooty and the Beast
Despite firmly sticking my head in a book every time I jump on the train, I find myself always looking around and thinking about other people.
Between Newmarket Station and Flinders St Station, I came to two conclusions today, one about me, and one about the book I'm reading. Firstly, I should be very thankful for not being an ugly person. Some people are ugly. Some people are very ugly. I've seen them, on trains. You know the saying "well, you're no oil painting!" Well, I
am, compared to heaps of other people.
Secondly, Russell McGilton hates car exhaust. I'm reading a book called
Yakety Yak, Bombay to Beijing by Bicycle at the moment, and really enjoying it. I'm halfway through, and noticed today that every time, I mean every time, Russell mentions a car, truck, bus or train, he has to mention the exhaust it is "spewing." He is also very focused on the pollution levels of each city he visits. As for me, the exhaust a car is producing is one of the last things I notice about it, and that says a lot about how blind to exhaust I've become.