American Idols

Since I've been on my own, both here in New York, and in my travels to and from, I have had the privilege of witnessing some of my own personal celebrity heroes in the primes of their respective careers, doing what they do best.

Over the past two years, I have seen the David Letterman show twice in person, which were both quite thrilling. David Letterman has long been a comedic icon to me. I have been watching his show since I was a child, with encouragement from my mother. I laughed hysterically then, and I still do now. I laugh even more now that I get the adult jokes. Before I just laughed at him working the drive-thru at Taco Bell.

In the past year, I have been witness to Ken Burns giving a talk about his latest work. Ken Burns has been a personal hero of mine ever since I watched the Civil War in history class in high school. Say what you want about documentaries, but nobody does them better than Ken Burns, in my opinion. They are long, boring, and informative. If that's not a documentary, then I don't know what is. What I like about Ken Burns so much is that he is loyal to the spirit of an American patriot, while trying to show aspects from every side of the story, even if it does not present America in the best light.

Being a fan of Ken Burns has turned me on to watching documentaries in general, and I have learned so much than I ever imagined I could from the so-called "idiot box".

Last football season, I had the rare privilege of being able to watch one of my favorite athletes take the field in what proved to be his statistically best and last season as a professional football player. I'd seen Brett Favre play once before, in a losing battle, when the Packers came to St. Louis a few years back. To see him this year, though, was a special treat. I saw the Packers in the beginning of the 2007 season, when they played against the New York Giants, and beat them. Then I saw them play the St. Louis Rams again later in December, where the Packers won, in the game in which Brett broke the all-time passing yards record. Both times I was able to share the experience with exquisite company, making it all the more worth while.

In the new year 2008, Henry Rollins came through New York on a two-night tour of Brooklyn. I've only been a fan of Henry Rollins in the last few years. He was once the lead singer of a band, but has always been an intellectual, a traveler, a scholar, and a terrific orator. On one of his nights in Brooklyn, I was able to take in some of his words with a friend of mine. Not music, though uplifting, and not comedy, though entertaining, Henry Rollins is one of the wisest men I've ever been privilege to hear speak, and it was an honor to do so live in person.

Not too long after that, I made a trip to Minnesota to meet my family, where we all sat in for a performance of Garrison Keilor's A Prairie Home Companion. I had been wanting to do this for a good long while, as the weekly radio show is something that I had become quite a fan of while in college, and even before that. In my opinion, Garrison Keilor is one the most brilliant and funny contemporary writers, and his weekly public radio broadcast that has been going strong for more than thirty years is a testament to how popular he/it is among people who actually listen. I could not tell you how many times I have laughed at the sense of humor he brings forth in his writing and story-telling. He is a true living genius. But to see him in person, in his arena, despite the poor view and abbreviated format of the show, was well worth it.

Lastly and most recently, I was able to take in a concert of the band that I have been obsessing over for the past year. Since seeing My Morning Jacket perform at last year's Lollapalooza, and listening to their records nonstop, I made it a quest and a religious experience to see them perform at Radio City Music Hall in New York on June 20th. Something was truly calling me. If that weren't enough, the person accompanying me for the occasion was a very special guest, and another person who I deeply admire. These two separate emotional plateaus came together on one night in one place, making for an incredibly intense experience for yours truly. And the concert was even more amazing than I expected it to be.

It's interesting how you get to like certain things or people, and then you get more and more deeply attached to them. They may become idols or role models, heroes or guides to you. What is really amazing though, is how they start to influence you and when you recognize those changes in yourself, modeled after this person or persons. They start to affect you in ways you never thought you could be affected.

These effects are not limited to celebrities, though. Surely, we all tend to look up to the people who entertain us. We are fans, and to an extend, followers. The effects also take place as a result of people you interact with on a more human level, too, though. You get influenced by your friends, by your boyfriend or girlfriend, by your neighbors, family, parents, and even strangers you meet in chance encounters.

I don't think it is ever too early or too late to set an example of behavior that somebody else might choose to imitate or borrow from. Everybody is capable of being an idol, to some extent.

It's So Easy, It's Incredibly Difficult

It's funny and ironic how advances in technology have made each of our lives so much easier and in doing so have made them so much more complicated. Just think about all the things you have done today.

A typical daily task list could include things like getting your car washed, picking up the dry cleaning, running through the drive-thru, seeing a movie, or paying your bills online. And all the while you're doing this, you might be text messaging people across a continent or listening to any assortment of musical tastes on your personal music player.

All these things and many more like them are becoming easier and easier. Services are more and more convenient. Devices are smaller and more compact. And while this technology is leaving other people in the dust, the people who do catch on are just adding it to their already busy lives, making their lives all the more difficult to deal with. They become short-tempered, have very little patience or respect for how things used to be.

"You mean to tell me I can talk, text, check email, and play Bingo right from my phone? Paper? What's paper?"

But nowadays, things are so easy, people are obligated to do them. If a person's phone starts ringing, he or she might as well answer it. I mean, it's right there by your leg, it's not like it's across the room or something.

If a person can record two shows at once, while watching another show, and then watch the shows he or she previously recorded afterwards, while recording more shows, then the person ought not ever leave the house.

If I can put all my thoughts, hopes, and dreams on the internet, censor-free, for all to see and read at the click of a button, who's going to stop me?

Not only that, but I can order business cards.

The ease of all these things, though, has led to people taking more and more on at one time. People don't know when to say when. They lose track of what they were doing in the first place, while all this stuff was being invented. And then it becomes too hard to try to appease everybody, while pleasing themselves.

At times my Netflix movies stack up for weeks or months on end. I can't not watch them, though. I'm paying for them. I'm taking advantage of the service. Why shouldn't I if I am able to?

I think that a lot of people suffer from doing the easy thing. I include myself in that. A lot of people don't do the hard things and they just move from one easy task to one easy task. They lose sight of why the hard things are there in the first place. What makes it difficult is what makes it worth doing.

It would benefit everyone if we cut a few easy things out of our lives, and concentrated on what is really important.

Being Part of the Crowd

A person who can't deal with crowds does not belong in New York. Virtually everywhere you go, you are bound to be thrust into a group of people you do not know. You quickly become a number, lose any sense of individuality and become initiated in part of a community.

I went to a free concert in Central Park of the New York Philharmonic the other day. I guess I didn't know what I expected, but I certainly did not expect so many concert enthusiasts to be populating the Great Lawn of Central Park so many hours before concert time. The lawn was absolutely covered with people the whole way across. No green space was left. Instead it was replaced by blankets and people, chairs, umbrellas, coolers, and food.

In trying to find the group of people I was to meet up with, I was greeted by concertgoers from every direction. Endless people all traveling towards the same destination. From the exit of the Subway, to the entrance of the park, and further into the enclaves of trees and walking paths, I was surrounded by people who were all doing the same thing as me. We were being directed by park cops, talking on cell phones, looking around hopelessly, and walking around somewhat aimlessly.

Emerging from the canopy to reach the great lawn of which there was very little grass left was quite intimidating. My friends naturally blended in with the rest of the crowd, and it took me a little while to find them. Once I did find them, I had to find my way through the already-established blanket-dwellers and people who had been camping since earlier that day. I crossed woodchips, dirt, mud and wet grass, and people's feet to be joined with my party. It was a trek. But once I made, I would be united with fellow appreciators of art and Classical music.

The performances of the New York Philharmonic in the park only happen once a year, apparently, and so I was lucky to be able to attend. I settled in with the group, found a place on the blanket, kicked off my shoes, and enjoyed the company, the food and drink, and the lovely scenery. I was able to meet some interesting people.

The people on the blanket behind us bothered me, though, as they kept trying to shoo people away from finding their own places in the crowd. This practice made it seem as if they had claimed the land for themselves and didn't want anybody else to pass. They kept trying to block passageway between the two blankets, which had turned into a popular choice of passage for a great many people getting to the other side.

I, on the other hand, noted that the edges of our blankets were getting soiled, and instead of trying to keep people from passing, I set a newspaper down so that people could tread across it, instead of walking all over our blankets. The way I figured it, the people who were trying to get past had a right to get to where they were going, in order to enjoy the free concert that was about to be presented to us.

After all, how did any of these people get to their blankets? They all had to step over people just like we did.

In a sense, this situation really presents the two Americas that our country is divided up into. There is the me-first conquering America that so many people relate to. This attitude is the kind that says, "well, I worked hard to get my blanket and my cooler here before anybody else, and therefore I have a right to my spot, and why should I let any of these people through? They should have gotten here earlier." Then there is the other, more democratic America that says, "everybody came here for the same thing you did, we all came here for the freedom to watch this concert the way we want to watch it. We also have the right to find the people we came with, to sit down, and to relax and enjoy it as everyone else is."

If you are really going to deny people the things they have a right to just because they are late, then you have problems. I'm sure everyone has been late to something at least once or twice.
People may have had to work that day, and were not able to drop everything to get prime seating for a free concert in Central Park. Not everyone knew to expect the size of crowd that ended up showing up. I myself hadn't even known about the concert until a few hours prior to. I definitely didn't know to get there four hours ahead of time in order to put a blanket down.

I don't consider myself a hero by any stretch of the imagination. I don't consider myself anything more than an average citizen, and I don't think I am exempt from any of the laws that any ordinary citizen has to abide by. I do think, however, that when people are gathered in crowds full of strangers, they exhibit their true selves.

Some people panic, while others remain calm. Some people get nervous and frightened, while others become funny, and their sense of social interaction becomes heightened. Some people attract attention, while others shun it.

What I do find fascinating, though, is how crowds gather for the most varying things. Crowds of thousands of people will force themselves together to take in a concert, or a baseball game, a circus, or the speeches of their favorite political candidate. All these people gathered round a central figure or presentation; it's amazing how much attention some things get.

As some people left the concert and some room opened up, I lay back on the grass and stared up at the stars, hearing Sibelius' Finlandia wash over me as the birds and bugs chirped in the trees. Some people around me were talking, some were humming, some cell phones went off, and somebody's candle fell over, starting a sudden, but manageable, fire.

I don't mind being part of a crowd. I can fit in. I can walk through it. I can participate in whatever's going on. I can offer my help or services if somebody should need them. If I need to, I can also leave.

Being a part of a crowd is not something anybody should be afraid of, in my opinion. We are all part of crowds at one time or another. And we are all part of the crowd metaphorically, if not always physically. Some people are in different crowds than others. I think what is important, rather than what crowd we are in, is what we are gathered for.

Which Beatles Song Describes Your Relationship Right Now?

The great thing about relationships is that they are always changing their dynamic. They are constantly changing form. They change based on the chameleon-like opinions of the people involved. It can be a day-to-day change, a habitual or behavioral change. Relationships grow more intense and they grow more distant. It keeps the members of the relationship on their respective toes, poised to jump through hoops or step back at any given moment.

The good news is that no matter what stage your relationship is at this moment, there is probably a Beatles' song describing it. This is especially important for Beatles' fans.

Of course, Beatles' songs are more relevant to younger couples, because the Beatles themselves were young when they wrote the songs. But if you look into the later solo works of the four individuals involved, you will find deeper more philosophical works written as the Beatles aged that would pertain to older generations as well.

For the younger Beatles fans who might happen to be in love or in any of the stages involving love, chances are there is a song for you.

If you are at the early stages of desire or wanting, there are songs like "I Want You (She's So Heavy)," "I Saw Her Standing There," "Got to Get You Into My Life," or "I Wanna Be Your Man." In these cases, some of the lyrics are pretty obvious to their intended meaning, but some are particularly sweet. "How could I dance with another, when I saw her standing there?"

The stage of desire fuels a great deal of emotion and can attribute other beauties as "I Wanna Hold Your Hand," "I'll Get You," and the Beatles' timeless cover of Meredith Willson's "'Til There Was You."

The stage of happy-go-lucky love that first strikes when a relationship is fresh was inspiration for a great many Beatles' songs, and when listening to them, one can't help but think of Valentine's or perhaps the earlier, beginning stages of one's own relationship, when it was still fun and fresh. These songs usually consist of the guy making outrageous claims of how dedicated and loyal he is going to be to the woman of his dreams. Examples of these lyrics can be seen in "All My Loving," where it is said that "while I'm away, I'll write home everyday, and I'll send all my loving to you." In "Any Time At All," they claim that "any time at all, all you gotta do is call, and I'll be there."

More examples include classics like, "Love Me Do," "From Me to You," and "Two of Us." They could have been written in love-letter form, intended for serenading or coaxing the little lady into the gentleman's arms. "P.S. I Love You," clearly is a love letter. These songs are cures for the lovelorn, and are best listened to with the person you are coupling with. "Words of Love," "Eight Days a Week," and "Can't Buy Me Love," are all timeless. They are some of the most romantic love songs ever written and will probably be remembered for the rest of recorded music.

But this stage clearly leads into the stage of appreciation, when the man confesses undying love for the woman, and tries to express how much he actually appreciates her no matter what she does to him. "And I Love Her," "You've Really Got a Hold On Me," and "I Feel Fine." The Beatles so articulately explain how they feel; and they make it rhyme. "I don't like you, but I love you, seems that I'm always thinking of you. You treat me badly. I love you madly. You've really got a hold on me." "Baby says she's mine, you know, she tells me all the time, you know, she said so. I'm in love with her and I feel fine."

There are as many songs as there are emotional stages to a relationship, and I could probably go on for a long time. It's great when emotional characteristics of a relationship are carried as easily as before mentioned from one party to the other. We all know, however, that communication can sometimes be a huge problem in relationships. The Beatles address that is songs such as, "No Reply," "You Won't See Me," and "Tell Me Why." "I call you up, your line's engaged. I've had enough, now act your age. We have lost the time that was so hard to find. And I will lose my mind if you won't see me." The Beatles, like many guys, just want to get through to their respective ladies, and mutual communication is the only way to do that.

The Beatles further articulate their frustrations with women in songs like, "You Can't Do That," "Honey Don't," "Not a Second Time," and "What You're Doing." Women sometimes disappoint, they sometimes hurt feelings. They are capable of breaking down a man just as well as he is capable of breaking her down, especially if he is the more sensitive song-writer type. So the emotion comes out in some of the Beatles' more sorrowful songs. Despite their sadness, they are still very popular, in the examples of "Baby's in Black," and "Ticket to Ride." "I think it's gonna be sad, I think it's today. The girl that's driving me mad is going away." The personal feelings really ring forth in "I'll Cry Instead," "You've Got to Hide Your Love Away," and "This Boy."

In the wake of a relationship falling apart or losing its edge, the Beatles wrote songs of pleading and yearned for love not to be lost. "We Can Work it Out" is the most prominent example. "Don't Pass Me By," is another.

And then there are those times when love is lost and the relationship doesn't work out. Even when this happens though, a song is there to chime in. "For No One," "Yesterday," and "Hey Jude," are some of the most powerful and poetic love songs, though they are dreary in nature.

At last, though, the Beatles present songs of true love. Love that lasts through all the aforementioned stages and lives beyond the life of the song. Songs that can be listened to over and over again, danced to, and cried to while holding each other in arms. These love songs exhibit love for all that is worth, and fused with the Beatles' melodious lyrics and perfect harmonies, cannot be presented in a more pure and splendid fashion.

Of course the songs I'm talking about have true love in their titles, in their lyrics, and in their themes. "Here, There, and Everywhere" tells how love never dies, and if it is right, then it doesn't. "Something," one of the purest of love songs, says, "there's something in the way she moves me, attracts me like no other lover. I don't want to leave her now, I don't want to leave anyhow." The soulful and moving "Don't Let Me Down," pleads with a new lover to make this one be the one that lasts, and features extra Beatle Billy Preston on a really soothing keyboard part. The White Album's "I Will" answers every question a lover might ask to the other, "if you want me to, I will." And the inspiring and powerful, "Long and Winding Road," explains that no matter where life takes you, true love will always keep you together.

These are all merely my own interpretations of some of the greatest songs ever written. But I believe even if you are not a Beatles fan, there is something here for everybody. If love is all we need, and in the end the love we take is equal to the love we make, then why not look to the band that gave us all these ideas in the first place. There are probably very few love songs that are more famous than some of the ones I mentioned, but the fact that so many people fell in love with the songs says something about them, too.

Everybody needs a love song. May you find yours.

You Are Not Ready For This...

...but I'm going to tell you anyway.

A revelation hit me the other day that was so profound, so intellectual, and so far beyond the grasp of any normal human being, that I could hardly believe it myself.  What I am about to unravel is a typhoon of wisdom.  I am going to expound an unprecedented spout of information that may very well change your life.

If Einstein were still alive, and if he read this, HE might even have a brain aneurism.

The boroughs of New York City are like the houses of Hogwart's.

The individual villages or boroughs, that are separated by bodies of water, yet within the city limits, that make up the population of the city of New York, each bear a resemblance to the individual houses of Hogwart's School for Wizardry and Witchcraft.

I know this is a tough concept to grasp, but just sit tight, I will lead you through this.

When a student is admitted to Hogwart's, he or she is sorted into one of the individual houses, named after the original founding members of Hogwart's, where the student then stays and lives for the next seven years, throughout the rest of their wizarding education.  Each house has its own personality.  Each is unique in what it offers to the student, what it brings to the school, and what kind of student it produces.

Similarly, when a person moves to New York, a person must decide which borough to live in. Each borough represents something vastly different about New York.  Each borough has a distinctly different population and personality.  And like the houses compete with each other for points and the House Cup, the boroughs compete metaphorically for which really is the TRUE New York.

Each house has a head, as each borough has a borough president.  Each house has a common room, as each borough has a great big park.  Each house has its own symbol or shield, as each borough has a distinctive accent.  Each house has a ghost that haunts the school, as each borough has the ghost of a baseball legend that still lives on in the memories of those who care about ghosts...or baseball.

The boroughs can each identify with one of the houses, if maybe only slightly.  But for posterity's sake, I'm going to compare each borough with its corresponding representation in the Harry Potter series.

The Bronx is clearly Slytherin, because the Bronx is scary.  Slytherin has always been well-known for turning out evil-doers and being the dark house.  That's not to say that everything or everybody in the Bronx is evil.  Nor is everything in Slytherin.  Surely, there are good parts to both, including Yankee Stadium and the Zoo.  But even the name Slytherin has an ominous air about it, much like parts of the Bronx.

Queens is Hufflepuff.  Both are pretty inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.  They are both just kind of there.  They have to be there to even out the geography.  When you meet somebody who lives in Hufflepuff, or Queens, they might tell you, "I live in Queens" and you might say, "Oh.  Well, see ya."

Those two houses are certain.  The last two houses are up for slight debate, although I've reached a conclusion that some people might not agree on.

Ravenclaw is Manhattan.  This only determined by living status, though.  Though the majority of activity in New York takes place in Manhattan, the people who reside here resemble those who live in Ravenclaw.  Ravenclaw is for the intellectuals, the elite.  And people who live in Manhattan definitely have a little bit of an attitude about how where they live is a little bit better than anywhere else.

Which leaves Gryffindor, everyone's favorite house containing everyone's favorite heroes.  And Gryffindor is naturally Brooklyn.  It is for the brave, the noble, the loyal, the clever, and the courageous.  All the coolest characters in the books and all the most well-known wizards come from Gryffindor, which is fitting, because all the coolest characters and all the most well-known New Yorkers come from Brooklyn.  It's a very famous part of New York.  And it is home to Spike Lee, Woody Allen, and George Gershwin, while Gryffindor is home to Dumbledore, Hagrid, and especially Harry Potter.

Brooklyn has the largest population of the boroughs of New York, and while that may not be true of Gryffindor, certainly the majority of the characters that are named all come from Gryffindor, making it seem like Gryffindor has the most people, at least the most people worth mentioning.

Now I know what you are thinking.  Aren't there five boroughs?  Aren't you missing one?  Well, yes and no.  The last borough is, of course, Staten Island.  Staten Island is not represented by a house of Hogwart's.  Instead, Staten Island, is, you guessed it, Azkaban.  Yes, that's right.  Staten Island is like a prison.  You only go there if you absolutely have to.  It is far away, isolated in the ocean, and the only way to get back and forth from it is to be escorted by ferry.

So there you have it.  New York is like Hogwart's.  We come here from far away to become famous and powerful wizards and sorcerers.  We learn spells and other tricks, we display our talents, we fight our demons, and hopefully, we'll graduate with honors.  

I am in the summer between second and third year.  I've gotten my feet wet, faced a few challenges, made some friends, and learned a whole lot.  I'm about to start my third year, though, which means the greatest adventures are yet to come.

The Commute

A lot of people in this world are familiar with the phenomenon of commuting. Hundreds of thousands of people live and dwell a journey's distance away from their places of work and business. The phenomenon occurs on every level, but is more prevalent in societies revolving around major cities.

Hundreds of thousands of people, millions even, pack into different modes of transportation in order to get to work everyday. And most of these people work in what are known as typical hours of business, i.e. 9:00am-5:00pm. These hours are stretched and shortened in different places of business, but more or less represent the gamut of working class society.

In major metropolitan areas, such as New York, millions of people live outside the confines of the municipal outlines of the city, and commute to work into the city. These people live on the outskirts or in the suburbs. And because of where they live and where they work, they are required to perform a daily ritual that can only be described as commuting.

In New York, as in every part of the world, commuting takes many forms. There are people who walk, bike, and drive to work on their own terms. Then there are people who carpool, or ride mass transit, e.g. the bus, train, or the subway.
I am a contributor to mass transit. When I used to live in New Jersey, I used to ride the bus everyday to get to New York City, however, now that I live in Brooklyn, which is on the opposite of Manhattan island and part of New York State and City, I am privileged to be able to ride the New York City Subway...everyday.

An approximation of 8 million people live within the city limits of New York City, and a further approximation of 8 million more commute everyday from New Jersey, upstate New York, Connecticut, and Long Island. That makes a total of approximately 16 million people competing within the city limits on any given work day, give or take a couple million (while these figures are approximate, I did learn about them from a documentary or a book or an article, and, I swear, I did not make them up).

My rush-hour journey begins at approximately 8:00 in the morning, when I typically board the (4) or (5) Subway train along the Eastern Parkway/Lexington Avenue line bound for Manhattan, ending up at Grand Central Terminal, the commuting hub of hundreds of train lines, and, in itself, an icon of New York City Transit.

Usually there are no seats on the train (this particular Subway line is notoriously popular and overcrowded), and so I usually try to obtain a spot on the train where I can stand clear of incoming and outgoing passengers, away from solicitation, in relative isolation where I can read or listen to music without threatening to bother anybody. If possible, I always try to go to one of the against-the-door spots, which are clearly marked by the "Do Not Lean Against the Doors" signs. Everybody does lean on them though, because they are proven safe and because it is a great spot on the train to stand if you can't sit.

On my trip in the morning, the train doors open on only one side the entire ride, except for one stop, so if I can get set up against one of the doors on the opposite side, I've got it made in the shade.

The benches are all attached to the outside walls of the inside of the Subway car, and are affixed and reinforced with poles that stretch up to the ceiling. Then there are a few more poles, railings, and other hand bars located strategically throughout the train, placed in order to mathematically maximize the number of passengers in accordance with the amount of physical space the car offers.

If a rider cannot obtain a seat or a position on the outside of the Subway car, either in a seat or against a door, he or she must float around the middle of the car, making their journey a little more difficult. If a person cannot get a position with their backs to the wall, it usually requires them to face the people that have their backs to the wall, and in these close quarters, can make for awkward interactions. A person in the middle of the car, either hovering around the center poles, clinging to the rails running along the ceiling, or in one of those phantom spots in between one of the other more established spots, is almost guaranteed to have to shift his or her position during the course or the ride, in order to let people through.

If required to shift, though, many times it is possible to move ahead in your position in the car. If somebody leaves the door spot and I am in the middle of the car somewhere, I always dart for the door spot to try and get it before someone else can. I almost never sit. First of all, there are usually never any seats, but if there are and I take one of them, it only takes about five seconds before someone new comes on the train and I would feel guilty sitting as they were standing. Obviously, women and the elderly get precedence over me, it goes without saying.

So, I am usually standing for the 30-40 minute train ride to Midtown Manhattan. It is a good way to get a lot of thinking done. It is a good place to work on reading a novel. And it is a terrific place to see how people (strangers) interact with one another. One of the cardinal rules, however, is to not look people in the eyes; that would just make them uncomfortable, even though all any of us want to do is just look at everybody. You have to try to look at people when they are not looking in your direction, which can be difficult at times, considering how close we all are to one another, but it is possible.

You get a good look at people, let me tell you. A wiser man than myself once said, "People are strange, when you're a stranger..." This is true. Everybody on the train is trying to be an individual. Each person is on his or her own personal journey, usually traveling by him or herself, in order to get to a destination where they will once again be regrouped with people they know. But until then, they're on their own, which leads to some pretty funny stuff.

It's funny how some people will refuse to communicate with a stranger. They will come to a decision in their minds that it will be better to inconvenience a person and completely invade their personal space than to ask them to move or pardon themselves.

The people with headphones have an understanding that as long as they hear nothing but music, it doesn’t matter where they are or who they are next to. They will push, shove, or ignore to their heart’s delight, as long as those sweet tunes keep playing in their ears. And if you think their music is too loud and you’d like them to turn it down, forget it, because that’s when they’ll start singing or rapping along, loud enough so that everyone can hear.

This brings up an interesting debate, and I often wonder which is ruder: to be inconveniencing a crowd of people by having your music too loud, or to be that one person who breaks the silence of the crowd and asks them to turn it down. Which is more of a social faux pas?

At any rate, I’ve never seen anyone challenge the over-exuberant music listener yet, and I fear it might be up to me.

One thing is for sure, about riding the Subway, though, the crazies do come out. And not only at night. Though nighttime is more likely you’ll find somebody who is obviously out of his/her mind, it’s hard to go more than a few Subway rides without encountering somebody who is either preaching, asking for money, or just acting completely absurd.

The other morning, on the way to work, this woman got on a crowded subway car and started berating the man standing next to me for no apparent reason. She started by commenting how beautiful a day it was, and then went on to disgrace actors, and then concluded by telling the guy how ugly his mother was.

Fortunately, she got off at the next stop. And that is when the preacher at the other end of the car started his spiel.

It is never a dull moment on the Subway.

The morning commute is most enjoyed when the car is packed so full that we are all standing unreasonably close to someone we’ve never met or even enjoyed a meal with. It requires you to nudge people, to slide your hands and arms up and down in a purely vertical fashion so as not to abruptly touch someone’s thigh or butt or hip or face, while you reach for the handle bar.

Even though it is that close physical contact with new people that we’ve all been missing so much, it is unfortunately inappropriate to grope your fellow commuter on the way to and from work. There are simply too many people around. But the swaying motion of the moving train cars doesn’t help much.

If you don’t happen to have a seat or a spot where you can lean against something, standing so close to all these other people makes it so that you have to stand at a certain angle the whole time, forcing your body into an uncomfortable position that only a gymnast might know about, in order to avoid touching somebody or completely falling over.

If this is the case, you can get quite a workout contracting and releasing your arms and abs and glutes trying to stay rigid.

No matter how I stand, be it leaning against the door or contorted in some strange way, parts of my body will undoubtedly fall asleep before too long, and I will have to find a way to change positions. Shifting is not something that is easily done when packed into a moving train. My legs usually go one stop before I have to get off, about thirty minutes into the ride.

It’s not uncommon to see me shaking a whole lot upon exiting the train.

But, alas, I have made it to my destination, safe and sound, and on time. It can be a pain in the rear sometimes, but riding the Subway for me is a joyful occasion. I enjoy it thoroughly, and I can’t think of a better way to get to work.