Bagels, singing, and the subway

Yesterday on the train, I heard the most beautiful singing. It was pretty incredible.  First I thought it was an Ave Maria…and then maybe a few bars from an aria from La Wally/the movie Diva.  And then I realized that I am a philistine and have no idea.  I will say that subway cars have surprisingly good acoustics.

   One thing was clear; she had a trained voice.  Can you have a VERY trained voice?  In any case, I had $3 in my pocket and gave it to her when she came by.  I was surprised when I saw her—she was more disheveled and tiny than I would have expected.  She could have been my younger sister (if I had one) except than she was 5 foot nothin’. She had big wavy hair and was wearing massive cargo pants and a t-shirt. Not very operatic, but good for the subway.  When she came back around she looked me straight in the eyes and thanked me. So I thanked her back.  If my head had been on straight, I would have tried to find out more—I would love to hear her sing again.

   In any case, there is no subway riding for me today—I am at home trying to shake off the sickies.  I am reluctant to leave the house, but I haven’t eaten breakfast yet and I am craving an everything bagel with scallion cream cheese.  I think that I’m still feeling scarred from my last weekend’s experience with the finish line bagels.  After I crossed the finish line at the Mother’s Day race, I hurried to the bagel table, grabbed up a cinnamon-raisin bagel and bit into it. I promptly spat it out in my plan (Phtuh!), since it was a CHOCOLATE BAGEL?  THERE IS NO SUCH THING IN MY WORLD! (phtuh).

   To bagel or not…to leave the house or not.  Such decisions I have to make—it’s not easy.

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