Moondance

If I’m being really honest, there are days here in New York City that suck. Caught in the rain, aching knees on the stairs, pee smell in the subway days. Waiting hours for an audition that doesn’t happen days.

 But then there are nights like tonight. Around 6:00, I headed to midtown to see “Old Jews Telling Jokes". I exited at the 42nd Street station, where, accompanied by a track, an opera soprano sang with such passion and abandon it brought tears to my eyes. A large appreciative audience had gathered to listen and applaud. 

Then at the West Side Theatre, “old Jews" (and a couple of young ones) brought tears of laughter to my eyes. Hilarious jokes, delivered with perfect timing — it was just great fun, shared by an audience that, being mostly Jewish, was roaring with laughter. They proved there is NOTHING in which you can’t find humor — even divorce, sickness and death. 

While waiting for my home-bound train on the C platform, a young white woman with a guitar sang old rock music while a homeless black guy joined in and they had a great time singing a duet.

As I walked home from the subway I heard music wafting from beyond my building. I walked further down the street and realized it was coming from the back of the large youth hostel in our neighborhood. There was some kind of party in the back yard, in an alcove where I couldn’t see. But I stood and listened to something that was sort of a cross between Enya and smooth jazz, sung by a woman with a haunting voice. As I turned to walk back to my apartment, I beheld a glorious full moon draped above Central Park.

 It’s times like this that I just love New York.