Overheard In DC: This Is 40

 

Stylin' City Connect Nats train! Community! Photo by Joe - 2023

August 2nd, 2023. Red Line train from Shady Grove to Glenmont. An up and down ride. It starts well, as I happen to get the train that's temporarily wrapped in Nats "City Connect" themed decals, inside and out. But then I board in my usual spot (front of car three, which puts me right at the south exit escalator at DuPont Circle). Having recently been forced to trade my 7-minute commute for a 77-minute one, I'm all about minimizing my travel time. But then... there's some dude sitting in "my" seat. I have to sit one row back from the doors. Boooo. Day: ruined.

And then... A few stops down the line, a guy boards our car and immediately spots the guy in front of me. They're old friends. Sounds like they haven't seen each other in a couple of years. I'd guess that they're in their mid-fifties, but I'm terrible at that, so let's just say they're probably about halfway between fifty and sixty. I quickly learn that the new guy is Brian, and apparently the guy in my usual seat is named Dude (I like to think that Brian simply couldn't remember Dude's name). In minutes, I know where they work, what they do, how many Nats games they've each attended this season, and the fact that Brian's girlfriend Jessica turned out to be a "psycho bitch," because she moved out. It's tedious to listen to, and loud. I just want to read today's Heather Cox Richardson post and a few pages of Christopher Moore, before I get to DuPont. It's usually so quiet on the Metro. 

But then... 

"Dude, you wanna feel old?" Brian asks.

"I already feel old," says Dude.

"This month, the debut records by both Ratt and Queensrÿche turn forty years old."

"Holy shit! Don't tell me that!"

"Oh, it gets so much worse, man," says Brian. "Everything turns forty, this year. Remember 'Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This?' Remember how weird and new and futuristic that shit sounded? Yeah - forty years old."

"Ouch," Dude says. "I remember. Isn't 1983 when 'Risky Business' came out?"

Brian nods vigorously. "Yep - and 'Trading Places. Dude, we ARE old."

"U2's 'Sunday Bloody Sunday.' That song was on DC101 like once every hour. And Mr. Roboto. Remember that?"

"I do. But speaking of playing every hour - Quiet Riot was literally everywhere. And that freakin' Bonnie Tyler song. What was that song? It was like seven minutes long..."

"I think that was 'Total Eclipse Of The Heart,' and yes - it was on all the time. So was its video. Total chick song. Chick song of the year, probably. But does that seem like forty years ago?"

Brian shakes his head. "I think I'm actually old enough that it somehow seems like yesterday and forty years ago."

"'Safety Dance' is four decades old," says Dude.

"Stop."

"'Burning Down The House'. You know - Talking Heads?"

"I know Talking Heads, Dude! Come on - I don't need to feel any older."

"Okay, but Bowie's 'Let's Dance!'"

"I hate you."

"This is my stop. Great to see you, Brian." Dude gets up and they exchange a handshake. As the doors open and Dude steps off the train, he blurts, "Ozzy's 'Bark At The Moon!'" over his shoulder.

"Billy Idol!" Brian shouts. "'Rebel Yell!'"

The doors close.

[blessed silence]

I reopen my Christopher Moore book, only to find myself one stop - about two minutes - from DuPont Circle and the longest escalator in the universe, followed by a humid half-mile walk to 23rd Street in the West End. 

Sigh.