The scientific method...

Figure 1.3: Study specimens ignore the idiot in the subway...

In my previous life before New York (which is what it now seems like), I would look forward to Thursday evenings in my studio with Gabriela, my very insightful drawing student. Gabriela was an Italian transplant finishing her Ph.D. in Ecology in Colorado (and I'm still not quite sure what that means exactly). In addition to science, she had a very artistic streak, and we'd spend one evening per week exploring that whilst discussing the connections between the artistic process and the scientific method - conversations that were nearly always accompanied by friendly libations (or "art supplies" as I call them). We never came to any definitive conclusions, which wasn't really the point, but it has made me view many things in life since then as mere opportunities for pseudo-empirical observation and testing using unaware human subjects and then making unfounded claims based primarily on my own opinions (or what FOX News does 24/7).

The streets of New York are like a giant petri dish for the social sciences; so many tiny little people all shoved into a big maze scurrying about in search of food, sex and money - some even wearing articles of clothing resembling rodent fur (thank heavens fashion week is over!). Part of the brilliance of living in a city of 8 million people is the anonymity that provides when doing really dumb things. Unlike my non-populated hometown where everyone knew everyone else, you can urinate in public on the city streets here, and nobody will tell your mother - they don't know your mother, nor do they have the time to care that you have one (too many people take advantage of this here, especially on St. Patrick's Day). Although the majority of folks wouldn't expose themselves in a subway station, it's always an option, not necessarily the best, but an option none the less. A side effect of this abundance of social impropriety is the fact that the "regular folks" are so desensitized that these events are easily ignorable, thus adding to the allure of doing really dumb things without the fear of permanent social ostracization. 

Sometimes I like to be evil.

On more than one occasion, I've been known to disrupt morning rush-hour sidewalk traffic by walking against the flow, just to see how many people would adjust their course to avoid me, and how many briefcases jab me in the ribs. I've since decided this experiment is not interesting enough to justify the bruises involved, but on a masochistic whim, I may take it up again. Another fun game to play is finding a subway car with an abundance of empty seats and then sitting right next to the only other person on the train; it's almost as exciting as the equivalent game played with urinals in the mens room. My very favorite social experiment is to do something that is rather bizarre and foreign to most New Yorkers, but was second nature to me growing up: holding the door open for strangers. I like to spice up the game a little, and hold the door open for several strangers while smiling AND nodding. As I don't have a uniform with stripes running down the legs, it makes people uncomfortable, especially the smile. They don't know whether to thank me, tip me, or report me to the authorities for being some kind of lunatic. Some just ignore me altogether, as a reflex acquired by exposure to constant over-stimulation. I'm not quite sure what any of these little activities prove, but they are definitely great ways to make the morning commute more engaging, and I get to live out my unrealized scientific dreams.

Although I don't urinate in public (at least during the day), I notice that I do take advantage of these unique social liberties more than I would elsewhere because I know that aside from a scowl or a suitcase to the rib, little more will ever come of my being an ass, and I like that. I'm able to let loose and be "the real me," or at least the me that I decide to be in a given moment. It seems that science has been teaching me much more than my junior high school teachers ever would have though I could possibly absorb. Using science to justify self-indulgent behavior really is changing my life. Thank you Gabriela, and thank you New York!