A highlight of mine this weekend was learning to find my way around via public transit for the first time in NYC. It intimidated me, maybe because the first and only time I had experienced it before, I was quite young. It was brief and scary and it made me stay away for a while. I’ve been successful in other cities and was ready to take on the MTA.
This was the first time I ever stood in Grand Central Station. It took my breath away. A girl walked by on her cell phone saying, “We’re under the sky facing 42nd Street.” It was nice to be under the sky with her and hundreds of other people from around the world.
I succeeded. Of course. It’s not even scary. Well, maybe a little bit. Like when I had to jam myself and my suitcase into a packed train enough to “LET THE DOORS CLOSE!” And that guy who had been talking to himself for a while and then turned and asked me to tell him a logarithm. But mostly it’s quartets singing Motown, people playing acoustic guitar, silver painted mimes, and people getting on the train just to sing for a buck. A sea-full of interesting people and faces, with deep expressions and glances at each other that tell stories. If only you’ll stop to listen.
It’s all part of the experience.