59th street chasm songs. (not feeling groovy)

Tuesday morning. 59th and Park Avenue. The plaza next to the Apple Store. Hordes of screaming teenage girls, many white balanced floodlights, some sort of shoot. The crowds part for an instant, and i see the streaked hair of Sanjay Malakar, signing autographs gamely as he rises and rises to fame, despite/because of being booted off American Idol, despite not being able to sing to save his life.

Fifteen minutes later. Waiting for the 1 train under 59th and 8th. An old black man plays The Magic Flute, on a well, magic flute. The 3 thunders by and drowns him out. Everyone ignores him. When the 1 Train stops and I get on, he's playing Ode to Joy, and it's beautiful enough to be very, very sad.

And what would have happened if the man was Joshua Bell? Probably the same.