Street musicians

Is there a person you should’ve thanked, but never had the chance? Is there someone who helped you along the way without even realizing it? Here’s your chance to express your belated gratitude.

Rush hour. The subway station in Lexington Ave. with 86th street. I have to take a train to go to  a meeting with some journalists at the Rockefeller Center. But I haven’t realized how affected am I by my depression. Once in the station I feel totally incapable to move and fight my way to enter the car. So I stay behind. when the train goes arises the sound of a street musician playing beautifully the violin from the opposite platform. The acoustic in the station is good. The sound fills everything for a moment. And the melody is delicate and sweet. He is a young Asian guy. A good musician. Soon, people arrive and the sound of the music fades. A second train comes but I’m incapable of coming in, again. The strength abandons me. I have my head empty, my heart heavy, my eyes tearful. And above all I feel awfully tired. Only the music prevent me from a total collapse. I don’t know how much time I pass there listening to the street violinist. Maybe hours. Obviously I lost my appointment, but at least I was able to come back home calmed after such a crisis. I never thanked the musician his help because he was on the opposite platform, but it was a big deal.

Being in San Francisco I had a similar experience with a black guy playing his saxophone in one of the perpendiculars of the Market street where he had found a perfect acoustic. I was particularly down that day. Again discouraged and terribly tired. He gave me a Jazz concert for me . Once again the music calmed me down. In that case I could thank him with a tip, but no with words.

Never Too Late.