Last week: In the Blink of an Axl

So, I'm riding the N to work late last week, when I noticed that the train car was having one of those rare moments-of-silence, where not even the train seems to make any noise.

And just as I closed my eyes to begin to relax into that silence and calm, a large, muscular, mustacheo-ed, middle-aged man wearing a cheap-looking snap-button-up 70s floral-patterned shirt and these huge, old headphones sat on me.

As half of his rotund buttocks squished onto my left leg, I was simualtaneously assulted by the indisciferable pounding of drums and guitar eminating from his damned headphones. Without looking over, he readjusted himself onto the actual seat beside me.

In a split-second, I was pissed off for being squished and for having that moment of meditation shattered. Right as I was about to utter words of outrage at this daft fellow, my brain suddenly locked onto the song blasting at top volume:

Guns N' Roses "November Rain"

And then, just as quickly, I wasn't mad at all.

Of course this guys is in his own world, I thought. Hey, listen, sometimes, you need some time on your own. Don't you know you need some time, all alone? Wherever this dude was, if he needs to blast GNR at top volume, first thing in the morning, he's in a bad place and who the hell am I to take him away from those precious 8 minutes and 57 seconds?

I can certainly identify with needing to have a few minutes of total escape by turning up music really, really loudly. Even if it means I loose all control of my faculties.

Listen, why waste time being angry when we both know, nothing lasts forever? And, we both know hearts can change.

Especially in the cold N train.