Crazy or an opera singer?

One of the joys of NYC is being on the subway next to someone and you hear that they are having a full-blown conversation. You look up and realize that there is no one on the other side of the conversation and see that they are actually muttering to themselves. It is usually accompanied by a rather funky stench, a shopping cart filled with plastic bags and frequent outbursts about what Nene just did. But there are those times when you see someone and they seem perfectly normal as they are dressed in the latest trends and are sans extra baggage and yet, they are clearly talking to…no one. I would get a kick out trying to figure out what it is they are whispering to themselves and if they truly see the person to whom it seems they are addressing. What makes a seemingly normal looking New Yorker have a whole train ride of one-sided chit-chat?

It wasn’t until about a week ago, while in the midst of perfecting my latest role of the Music Teacher in “Ariadne auf Naxos,” that it was brought to my attention that I have a habit of muttering the text in rhythm under my breath and to the casual observer, it would seem that I am skating right into Cuckooville. In my defense, I have had to learn six new roles this season and have another new role to learn in a month so lots of repetition is a must. I know I have a role down cold when I can pick any spot in the opera and can rattle off the words like they are second nature. However, I was not aware that the rattling was out loud and could be viewed by others as someone on the way to Crazy Town.

My mind flashed back to all those seemingly normal folks I had seen having one-sided conversations and I realized that they were, like me, working out the nuances of an upcoming role. My theory was confirmed this morning as I went for a walk and realized, that unbeknownst to my conscious mind, I was mumbling the Music Teacher’s lines while walking down the street. Now, anyone who chooses the life of an opera singer has to have a touch of the crazy in them, however the next time you see someone chit-chatting to the air, have faith that they just might be the next great opera singer preparing a new, challenging role…or they might be Crazy Louie coming to bum a quarter. It is New York after all.

Peace,
Eric