Good morning, Thursday. I'm officially in the drying out phase of this scourge I've got- last night I got home and was so stuffed up I felt kind of panicked by my inability to breath. After doping myself up with about 16 different cold meds, I finally fell asleep, after retreating to our second bedroom, doing an exhaustive Internet search on the Japanese Yakuza (fascinating), and helping a friend select an outfit, virtually. I'm tired today.
But besides all of that and having slept a good six hours, I'm back to face another one. And here's the thing about facing the day in New York- you really never know what's going to happen before you even set foot in the office. So on today's A train, my fellow straphangers and I were treated to the most amazing version of "No Woman No Cry" by a gentlemen and two female back up singers, done in a very Fugees/Wyclef style in my train car. We all clapped and after the hat was passed around for tips, our singer gave us a real talking to.
He told us we all suck for having full time jobs and not following our dreams. That we only care about others when the real "shit" goes down like 9/11. That we're lulled into submission by our quest for more money and more power. That there's nothing wrong with saying "thank you" or "good morning" instead of "EXCUSE ME!" when you board that packed train in the morning. After being treated to such soulful music, giving claps and high fives and giving out our spare change, we all felt a bit assaulted, and further, completely bummed out. What a buzz kill. Sure it's true, and we all knew it. But really? At 8:30 am you have to treat us to a beautiful rendition of a beautiful song and then slam us all for being a bunch of bourgeois plebes? Don't think for a minute you can simply enjoy some sweet harmonizing and Haitian free styling on the subway. Nope. You're a sucker and a douche and that's that. Is he wrong? Nope. Sigh. Feeling a bit like Charlie Brown.
That's the rub of living here folks. You're up. you're down, you're over and out. All in the span of a 20 minute train ride. I can only imagine what the rest of the day will reap. Merde.
Cause that's what's up this narrowly avoiding disaster (hey, government- thanks) kind of Thursday in the wacky, wacky 212. All the love. Stay golden, and be careful out there. XO