Naughty Girl Moment
Once again, I love the train. I went to the Amtrak station to take the westbound 737 down to Berkeley to meet up with my dad for a matinee of The Dark Knight and was lucky enough to get to the station with 5 minutes to spare. When I arrived there was a young, skinny guy wearing a wife beater and jeans, absolutely belting songs. He was just finishing up one as I got there and when his iPod shuffle transitioned into “Tonight I'll be your naughty girl” he followed it without flinching.
I confess, sometimes I sing softly to myself while walking down the street, or I might treat passersby to an especially breathy rendition of “Eye of the Tiger” while nearing the end of a run, but I’ve never done anything even remotely this bold. I don’t even thing I could sing that loud in the shower. (People who have lived with me may be able to dispute this point.) But the thing that made this an exercise in awe instead of in public embarrassment was the fact that he was easily one of the three best singers that I’ve ever heard. He hit insanely high notes without breaking and never faltered once for lack of breath or confidence.
I have never seen anyone do anything as completely as he sang about being a naughty girl. He held nothing back.
An interesting layer on top of all of this is the fact that since we were all waiting for the train, there was a group of thirty people who were now eavesdropping on this impromptu concert, not really knowing what to do about it, but not able to ignore it. A stocky white guy in his thirties with a goatee approached me.
“I hope he doesn’t sing like this the whole way there,” he said.
“If he had a bad voice I’d complain, but he’s really good,” I said.
“Yeah, he’s alright. But you have to know when to say when.”
Not knowing what this last statement meant, I gave my standard reply of non-committal agreement.
“(Me chuckling) I guess so…”
But what does that mean, “when to say when?” Did he mean it was like with one of your kids, where you humor her through the first twenty minutes of doll fashion shows, but after that you give her the hook? Did he mean it like you forgive your boyfriend for cheating on you, but not for charging the hotel room on your credit card? I think he knew more about singing at train stations than he let on. I think he used to be a member of Amtrak A Capella also and he just gave up the dream, realized that he’d never get that record deal and he might feel a twinge of regret, but he knows he made the right call. He knew when to say when.
I’m not telling this story in a Chicken Soup for the Soul way to say that we should all sing loudly in public spaces, 'cause screw what anyone else says. The truth is, many of us have pretty much no business singing that loudly in public places, and while I suspect that many of us might want to be a naughty girl, I’d rather it was left to the imagination.
I’m not telling you this as a cautionary tale, so you can hopefully never grow up to be a guy with a goatee in his thirties who makes sensible decisions and hopes that someone with a good voice stops singing when it’s appropriate to do so. Some days you might feel like permitting social deviancy and some days you might not. It’s neither here nor there and I won’t judge you either way.
I’m telling you this story because I’d hope that you might have a moment at some point in your day, your month, your life, where you do something fully without holding anything back. It might be worth doing in front of someone else, it might not be--doesn’t matter to me. I was just thinking that this young guy in his wife beater and jeans looked like he was doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing when he sang how he wanted to be a naughty girl. I bet it’s a good feeling.
I wish you the best of luck finding your naught girl moment.
I confess, sometimes I sing softly to myself while walking down the street, or I might treat passersby to an especially breathy rendition of “Eye of the Tiger” while nearing the end of a run, but I’ve never done anything even remotely this bold. I don’t even thing I could sing that loud in the shower. (People who have lived with me may be able to dispute this point.) But the thing that made this an exercise in awe instead of in public embarrassment was the fact that he was easily one of the three best singers that I’ve ever heard. He hit insanely high notes without breaking and never faltered once for lack of breath or confidence.
I have never seen anyone do anything as completely as he sang about being a naughty girl. He held nothing back.
An interesting layer on top of all of this is the fact that since we were all waiting for the train, there was a group of thirty people who were now eavesdropping on this impromptu concert, not really knowing what to do about it, but not able to ignore it. A stocky white guy in his thirties with a goatee approached me.
“I hope he doesn’t sing like this the whole way there,” he said.
“If he had a bad voice I’d complain, but he’s really good,” I said.
“Yeah, he’s alright. But you have to know when to say when.”
Not knowing what this last statement meant, I gave my standard reply of non-committal agreement.
“(Me chuckling) I guess so…”
But what does that mean, “when to say when?” Did he mean it was like with one of your kids, where you humor her through the first twenty minutes of doll fashion shows, but after that you give her the hook? Did he mean it like you forgive your boyfriend for cheating on you, but not for charging the hotel room on your credit card? I think he knew more about singing at train stations than he let on. I think he used to be a member of Amtrak A Capella also and he just gave up the dream, realized that he’d never get that record deal and he might feel a twinge of regret, but he knows he made the right call. He knew when to say when.
I’m not telling this story in a Chicken Soup for the Soul way to say that we should all sing loudly in public spaces, 'cause screw what anyone else says. The truth is, many of us have pretty much no business singing that loudly in public places, and while I suspect that many of us might want to be a naughty girl, I’d rather it was left to the imagination.
I’m not telling you this as a cautionary tale, so you can hopefully never grow up to be a guy with a goatee in his thirties who makes sensible decisions and hopes that someone with a good voice stops singing when it’s appropriate to do so. Some days you might feel like permitting social deviancy and some days you might not. It’s neither here nor there and I won’t judge you either way.
I’m telling you this story because I’d hope that you might have a moment at some point in your day, your month, your life, where you do something fully without holding anything back. It might be worth doing in front of someone else, it might not be--doesn’t matter to me. I was just thinking that this young guy in his wife beater and jeans looked like he was doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing when he sang how he wanted to be a naughty girl. I bet it’s a good feeling.
I wish you the best of luck finding your naught girl moment.
Comments
Anyway... good sentiment! Here's to those moments... may they stretch out for hours and days!