For Denise

A Mourning Dove sat on the bench on my front porch one morning as I sat down with my coffee. 

"Good morning, Mr. Pigeon", I said.  I often speak to the birds and animals around me, since, well, there is no one else to talk to most days. 

But as soon as I uttered those words, I felt like I had to apologize to the bird. 

"I'm sorry...I meant Mr. Dove!  So sorry to offend you."

Okay, so most of the conversation above was in my head, but it got me to thinking about my ingrained opinions on things.  For example, why do I think that a pigeon is a lesser creature than a dove?  The media has something to do with it I'm sure.  Pigeons are shown shitting on things, while doves are the symbol of peace.  But where did the media get that opinion?  Where did I get that opinion?

Consider rats and mice.  They have fur, and four legs and a tail, just like gerbils and hamsters and guinea pigs.  If hamsters roamed the New York subway system eating our leftovers, would we cringe at the thought of them too?  Why are they different?  Is it because we were taught that they were different by our parents, who were taught by their parents, and so on?  Is there some sort of genetic memory going on here?

When I would see a homeless person on the subway, or in the streets, my first instinct was disgust and avoidance.  And I heard over and over again from my colleagues that they smelled bad.  And that they were panhandlers who would just spend the money on cheap wine.  But almost without exception, the homeless people I saw were sleeping, and didn't smell bad, at least from what I could tell sitting across from them.  I never once was asked for money.  And the panhandlers on the train were in much better shape, and would often perform for the money, with music, or at the very least a rousing speech about Jesus.

So why are we ashamed of people who are mentally ill, or homeless, or addicts, or prisoners?  By the grace of God only I have been spared such a fate.  And trust me, there are some that think that living alone with 5 cats qualifies me for at least one of the above. 

The next time you have a visceral reaction to something or somebody, ask yourself this:  is this something I feel for a reason, or do I feel this way because someone has told me that I should?  Personally, I don't like being told what to do, so the next time I see a pigeon, or a rat, I'm going to speak to them with love and kindness.  Not so sure about Mr. Snake though - the story of Adam and Eve had to be true, right???

Mr. Crazy Himself

My colleaugue who happened to be on the subway with me when the homeless dude started his lecture mentioned the experience to some local friends of his. 

"Oh, he's a legend here in New York - been around for years", they said.

So I googled the guy, and sure enough, he is rather well known around here.

Crazy Crazy I Love Me Some Crazy

My hotel this trip is near Times Square, and I take the subway to Queens every day for work.  The first 4 stops until we hit 53rd street and Lexington are always packed, and I have to stand, hoping I'll have a pole to hold on to.

Wednesday I got on, and was holding on for dear life, when I heard a booming voice behind me. 

"Women are NOT equal to men.  They are meant to have babies, and should not assume that they should have the same privileges a man enjoys." 

I turned around to see who was speaking, something I know better than to do.  The speaker was a middle-aged African American man, round and bearded, and sat by himself in the back of the subway car.  He looked up, and seemed surprised because I made eye contact.  I'm not sure, but I think I saw a glimmer of glee in his eyes when he saw me see him. 

This guy had a radio voice.  As if he was reading from a script, he gave his opinions on women, Obama, and other assorted topics.  I was crammed in the subway, so I turned to my colleague while "The Prophet" broadcast his views.  I laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes.  My colleage, mistaking my demeanor for discomfort, asked me if I wanted to get out and take another train.  I laughed and said "no, I wouldn't miss this for the world!"

At the next stop, I was disappointed to see The Prophet exit the subway.  I turned around to watch him leave, and as soon as he stepped onto the platform he turned to face me again.  He continued his rant even as the doors closed and the subway pulled away from him.

New Yorkers are pros at ignoring strange behavior.  If you don't believe me, look at the YouTube video of the man who got on the subway with a chicken. 

But as soon as The Prophet got off, previously indifferent travelers started to laugh and talk about this guy.  "You can't argue with the crazies", one older lady said.  We all agreed that the guy had a perfect radio voice and ought to have his own show, but then we decided that there were already plenty of shows just like it.

I love this city!