together they Sang...

Musician John Cage said, "My favorite piece of music is the one we hear all around us when we are very quiet."  So today... I began to listen.  I was stunned at the music around me.

I watched a small, African-American boy waiting for the train.  He came close to where I sat as I also waited.  He looked at me.  He came closer as though he would speak to me or touch me.  Right before he did, his mother - who was following him - slowly - labored - a woman - overweight - with dyed blonde curls - commanded the boy to back away from me and sit down.  He obeyed.

He was about to talk to me, about to reach out and touch me, but he obeyed.  I kind of wish he hadn't.  Why the barrier?  Why the lack of love?  Why the formality?  Why was I simply silent - only watching?

Then, sitting beside me, barrier up, wall between us, he noticed an advertisement for a movie about revenge.  On it was a gorgeous young actress, profiled, holding a hand gun - the caption is:  "Revenge is a beautiful thing."  Because of his age, he simply notices the gun.  Were he older - he would have noticed both the woman and the gun, and he would have thought of the sexual and masculine gratification that would have resulted from taking in such a film.

But, he's about 6 or 7, so - he simply notices the gun.  His mom has caught up with him now and is sitting beside him.  He asks, "Mom, why that girl has a gun?"

His mom honestly replies, "Because she wants to kill somebody."

His eyes get big, and it's obvious that his young mind is thinking - he comes up with, "Why?"

She replies, "I don know.  I don know why people do the stuff they do..."

They both pause.  A still silence of thinking... contemplating... deciding what to do with uncertainty...

Then, I feel the prep beat...

And the music begins:

I am stunned as his mother repeats: "I don know why people do what they do," then she adds, "but it's crazy."  She repeats the last phrase over and over in rhythm.

"It's crazy.  It's crazy.  It's crazy."

As she finishes the verse - her son adds his rhythmic thought to their song.

His deafening lyric is:  "I wish I had a gun.  I wish I had a gun."

Together they experienced uncertainty.

Together they sang a deafening song.

And this was just the first time I listened to that deafening music you can only hear when you are very quiet.