All Aboard, and I mean ALL

Donning the dark sunglasses (for it was sunny and warm that day), he of the Dale that Rocks wandered down to his local station of the government provided transit system. Dressed in jeans, t-shirt, and newly acquired brown leather casual shoes (shoelaceless, cleverly) he had his beaten up shoulder bag slung diagonally across, containing all he required to sustain himself on his journey. Yes, it was a day in the city to be a "tourist in your own town" as the infernal jingle goes. But first, the joys of the journey.

He had always cursed the need for small change currency to purchase a ticket on the cityrail system. Cash had become an archaic form of payment in his opinion, and so was delighted to discover the ticket machine now accepting a mere swipe of a credit card and some depressing of buttons with his digits to award him the little paper pass to passage.

A colleague had once enlightened he of a detest of public transport. But he of the Dale always enjoyed his journeys, for it was his opportunity to see close up the ingredients that make up society and the many interesting folk he wish he were like if he were brave enough. The dark glasses performed admirally the role of one way viewers, allowing him to look upon the people, without them being able to detect his enquiring glances. He frequently felt unsure of this, perhaps it was an unseemly practice, but he knew that many people were unsettled by a staring stranger, and he wished them no unease.

Boarding the nearly empty train, he sat as usual upon the benches near the doors as it afforded greater legroom. In the same area was a couple with their young child and a rather extraordinarily heavy duty pram with three rugged looking wheels and stuffed with a considerable amount of equipment. They were a pleasant looking family, obviously venturing into the city also.

Stopping first at the Creek of Wolli, stepped aboard a most spectacular creature. Dressed in black leather, he sported a collection of tattoo's of dubious artistic distinction, a studded piercing for every exposed extremity (including a chain from nose to ear), and an enourmous green mohawk. He took his place next to the family, and an interesting dynamic evolved. Silence was the first result of the cultural melting pot occurring in the carriage that day, until he of the Dale noticed the young child's curiosity peaking. Since the Wolli creature had stepped aboard, the child had not set its eyes on anything else. The silence was soon broken by the child enquiring, "How do you get your hair to stick up like that?", and a collectively held breath awaited the reply. In a concise and learned voice the Wolli creature said, "I use hair gel. While it's wet I can style it like this, and when it dries it holds". "Can I touch your hair?", asked the child. "Ofcourse!", cried the creature and proceeded to lower his head so the child could carefully touch the exquisitely styled strands.

He of the Dale thanked the gods of cityrail that he had witnessed such an event, a connection between two very different parts of society that were willing in a small way to share part of what makes them who they are. The parents of the child, now having been given an indirect introduction to the creature proceeded to have a fascinating converation with him, discovering that he is studying for a doctorate, and plays an electric violin in a ska band.

He of the Dale wished he could have taken a photograph of the group, as he felt that moments like this should be captured as reminders of how vastly different people can co-exist. Perhaps, he thought, the key was to think with a child's mind upon the issue, allowing curiosity to exceed pre-conceived opinions. He of the Dale pondered for the remaining journey.