On the way home today, I sat next to this man who I dubbed “Socrates on the LIRR”. He got off in Merrick – a thoroughly unphilosophical place. He was also carrying a cell phone – which seems to undermine any reflection in my experience. But he held it in his hands constantly instead of putting it in a pocket, which contributed to his other-ness. But the book he was carrying had no title, gold lining, and was ancient looking. He was constantly rubbing his beard in thought.
That’s the story of my ride home on the train.