MTA Opera

Growing up my family moved a lot. Not like a military family, but way more than most. My mom always said that she’d start feeling at home in our newest town when while out and about, be she’d recognize someone she knew.

I’ve been in NYC for three years.  And the people I see and recognize are the homeless and street performers on my train.

There is an opera singer on the 7 train. He pushes around a grocery cart with huge battery powered speakers and sings in a rich and somewhat off-pitch baritone, and usually in a language I don’t understand. I see this man more than I see most of my friends.  Especially those friend who live in Brooklyn – compared to them, this Opera guy and I are besties.  I see him maybe once or twice a month, and I see him enough that tonight I noticed that he’s growing his hair out. Why I wonder? Why would a 60 year-old balding man want to grow his hair? Did he just start boycotting haircuts? Or is it a political comment? He also has replaced his cart twice since I started paying attention, so his panhandling must be going very well.

While this man is not the best singer, I have to give him major props for singing on the train. I don't know if I’d have the courage to do that. In this city if you're committed and loud enough you can literally get away with doing anything on the train.

Sing? Sure.

Scream? Go for it.

Cry? Have at it?

Yell at the empty space beside you? We'll make room for those ghosts, no prob.

I try to save my money for street performers, there are so many brilliant ones. A violinist in Herald Square once made me cry he was so good. (And yeah, I may have been on my period but he was still wonderful.) I’ve seen the harp-est in Grand Central three times.  I don’t even like the harp, but this guy is great. 

So, tonight, I gave my bff, the Opera Singer a dollar.  I hope he uses it to get a hair cut.