Ok, ok so the MTA signs insist that it is unlawful to give money to the homeless, performers, and the like who beg for change on the NYC subway system, but clearly that doesn't stop the hundreds of people who do it day after day. And let's be honest, it wouldn't be NYC without the individuality that these people bring to our daily commutes. Some are more aggressive than others, some sell candy for hypothetical basketball teams, some are "raising money" for homeless funds and "used" to be homeless, some tell you their life story, some bust out a boombox and do backflips, some dance, some sing, and the list goes on. We New Yorkers have seen it all and every bit just adds more color and richness to the canvases of our lives. One of my personal favorites was a band I saw back in April dressed as the characters from Sesame Street rocking out on the Manhattan bound 3 train at 11am. There's nothing like Cookie Monster playing the xylophone en route to a long day at the Javitz Center! Another woman I remember (who also used to sing all over Greenwich Village) would perform covered in flowers and only sang Harry Belafonte's "Day O" as she peddled for spare change.
But the one subway performer who stands out in my memory that I would without a doubt give my last dollar to, I saw for the first time the week I moved to the big apple as an innocent NYU freshman back in 1997. He was this African American gentleman who was blind and belted his heart out to the percussion of his cane tapping the subway floor and to the jingle of the change in his can. His voice was so haunting and soothing and hearing it would always make my day. I would see him sporadically on the train through the years but hadn't run into him since returning to the city in September after my 3 year hiatus to LAlaland. Last Friday I headed underground at the Bergen St. subway station en route to Park Slope and I heard his voice. "Where was he?" I wondered. And then I saw him across the platform tapping his cane and singing as if it was his last day on earth, waiting for the Manhattan bound F train to do his thing. I snapped a photo and have pasted it below. It made my day to see that he is still alive and well and pounding the pavement with his amazing gift, his voice. I don't know this man's name or his story, but keep your ears and eyes open for him. Amidst the hustle and bustle, sometimes it pays to take the time to listen, spare change or not.
3 comments: