Christmas Eve fell on a Tuesday this year. I worked through the day and left the office at five o’clock to go to a dinner. I saw a couple of interesting performances as I rode the subway.
First, a Mexican man brought a guitar onto the train and sang ‘Feliz Navidad’ with a female companion. They sang and played well, and I appreciated that the song was seasonally appropriate. The funny thing was that while the duo was performing, the train conductor triggered a pre-recorded public address message multiple times.
“It is illegal to ask for money on the subway. Please give to charities that help people.”
Undaunted, the Mexican couple finished their song and passed the hat before moving to repeat their performance in the next car.
When they Mexicans left, a young, very fit African American guy come onto the train with a large, battery-powered loudspeaker. He entered the door across from where I was standing. (I typically stand while riding the subway, and my preference is to stand by a door.)
When I saw the guy enter, I moved quickly to another doorway at the far end of the train. I knew what was coming, and I wanted to witness it from a safe distance.
The guy with the speaker was an acrobat. They work the subways during quieter hours when the train cars are less crowded. I was traveling at rush hour, but I supposed that most people had left work early or didn’t go in at all. The train car was nearly empty.
These acrobats do amazing flips and tricks with the assistance of the metal poles and bars in the subway cars. The bars are there for standing passengers to hold onto for stability. Sure enough, this young fellow started flipping and jumping all over the place. I was glad that I have given him some extra space.
The guy also did some amazing tricks with his hat, tossing it up in the air, catching it with his feet, kicking it in the air and having it land on his head again, that sort of thing. And as with the Mexicans singers before him, his act was accompanied by PA messages advising passengers not to give money. It was quite surreal. I gave the acrobat and the singers a buck each.
I reached my destination and enjoyed a delicious dinner and a few hours of Christmas cheer before having to depart for the church. I needed to pick up my instrument along the way and get set up for carols and the Midnight Mass.
Along the way, I passed a man who was walking slowly and laboriously along the sidewalk with the aid of a wheeled supporting device. He didn’t appear to be very old - he might have been younger than I am - but he was clearly in bad shape and looked quite disheveled. I felt genuine sadness for the man and wondered whether he might be spending Christmas Eve alone. In retrospect, I wish that I had thought to invite him to come to the mass where he could enjoy being with people, but the idea didn’t occur to me until much later.
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