Poem Moments

Life in New York City, for me at least, is full of what I call "poem moments" - suspended snapshots in time that are so saturated with beauty, heartbreak and/or sheer bizarreness they add up to a sort of parallel universe of uninvited insights into what I guess is generally termed "the human condition".

Today's subway drama featured an intensely belligerent man who smelled of liquor and was wearing what appeared to be a hospital bracelet.  Anyway, he made it pretty clear he was clinically paranoid and not to messed with.  Like everyone else I sort of disappeared into the "awesome, another crazy, lalalalala" obliviousness characteristic of any true New Yorker.  Resuming reading "Fifty Shades of Grey" on the Nook of the woman next to me was a bit more interesting, but not much- as befits any NY Times bestseller, it's an appallingly mediocre book.  Just so you know. 

Regardless.  The man next to me engaged Raging Potentially Violent Guy (RPVG) in conversation and with admirable diplomacy directed  RPVG's ire in the direction of the inadequacies of the MTA, a cunning target as we were on a train.  He then took his diplomacy to a whole new level by asking  "So, man, what do you do to relax?  Everyone's gotta have a hobby".

Rageful Potentially Violent Guy instantaneously morphed into Relaxed Positive Vibe Guy.  "Music", he said.  "Music is my life".

Music is pretty much my life too.  As such, I take it for granted.  (Also, like any profession, it's often as much stress as it is satisfaction, let alone having much therapeutic value).  Seeing what the mere thought of music meant to RPVG, and maybe lots of other people too- and by extension, the affirmation of the value of what I do- which is what I am- another MPM (Major Poem Moment).

God how I love this city!