(no subject)
I've no idea what's gone on on LJ in the past year.
I log in for the first time today and see many changes. Kinda funny how I expect things to stay the same.
I have a few old, typed-out, never-completed posts. They blur into one long document. Some of the content no longer applies. Do I keep it when I finally post the entries, or just let go?
I continue to defy the norms of my age group: still never owned a cell phone, sparse involvement with social media. I'm trying to change that. I've been more active on YouTube in the past months (though, like here, my activity's always sporadic). Through YouTube, I finally added (two) people to my Pal Pad and traded in Black. Decisions to buy a 3DS and a new generation weigh on my mind.
I decided to comment on every song in my collection that's on YouTube. I must. In today's trending world where nearly everyone only cares about what's latest, I want people to remember the greatness of the past. How they'll make those discoveries, I don't know. I'm not exactly advertising my YouTube channel, so it's not like my words of praise will be noticed. But at least my opinions will live on in the Internet.
I didn't intend to post any of the above. I began this entry with one thing in mind, and now I'll get to it.
A black boy of about five, give or take a year, was playing a violin as I entered the subway yesterday. I was listening to my iPod, as usual, so of course I heard little of my surroundings. From the few strained sounds of playing I heard, I could tell the boy was a beginner. But I stopped in my tracks, gave him a brief look, glanced down at the violin case piled with money laying on the ground, before I took out three single dollar bills and dropped them inside.
Prior to this, I had never given money to anyone in the subway.*
I never looked back up at the boy. I didn't say a word. My interaction, for lack of a better word, lasted less than 10 seconds.
A few months ago (or was it last month? time drags but things aren't spaced as far apart as they feel), a middle-aged-probably older-white man was playing a violin inside the subway car I was in.
I watched.
Took off my headphones.
Listened.
He played for at least 2 minutes, if not more. He was brilliant, especially near the end of his performance.
Barely anyone (No one?) paid attention to him. I gave nothing. Said nothing. I wanted to though, on both counts.
I gave money to the boy to convey a message which, in hindsight, I should've told him directly: "Never stop playing."
Afterward, I analyzed these separate incidents and tried to determine what made me (and apparently many others) more generous to the boy than the man.
He's young. He's productive. He's dreaming of a better world where his talent will be noticed and appreciated.
The man is old. With his talent, he should have a job, not perform in a train.
The boy needs encouragement; the man does not. As a starving artist, he already knows he'll be overlooked by the world. People generally contribute to things they like, and classical music is a dying breed. Indeed, I read about the NYC Opera filing for bankruptcy only recently.
Excuses, excuses.
Shit. I had a point to make, but I had it yesterday. Now I don't remember it.
* - My favorite scam is the so-called blind man with black sunglasses who, upon reaching the end of the subway car with a No Exit sign, got off at the next stop to enter the next car. He didn't bother walking to the end of the car, just waited by the last set of doors as the train rode through the tunnels. How did he know about the No Exit sign?
I log in for the first time today and see many changes. Kinda funny how I expect things to stay the same.
I have a few old, typed-out, never-completed posts. They blur into one long document. Some of the content no longer applies. Do I keep it when I finally post the entries, or just let go?
I continue to defy the norms of my age group: still never owned a cell phone, sparse involvement with social media. I'm trying to change that. I've been more active on YouTube in the past months (though, like here, my activity's always sporadic). Through YouTube, I finally added (two) people to my Pal Pad and traded in Black. Decisions to buy a 3DS and a new generation weigh on my mind.
I decided to comment on every song in my collection that's on YouTube. I must. In today's trending world where nearly everyone only cares about what's latest, I want people to remember the greatness of the past. How they'll make those discoveries, I don't know. I'm not exactly advertising my YouTube channel, so it's not like my words of praise will be noticed. But at least my opinions will live on in the Internet.
I didn't intend to post any of the above. I began this entry with one thing in mind, and now I'll get to it.
A black boy of about five, give or take a year, was playing a violin as I entered the subway yesterday. I was listening to my iPod, as usual, so of course I heard little of my surroundings. From the few strained sounds of playing I heard, I could tell the boy was a beginner. But I stopped in my tracks, gave him a brief look, glanced down at the violin case piled with money laying on the ground, before I took out three single dollar bills and dropped them inside.
Prior to this, I had never given money to anyone in the subway.*
I never looked back up at the boy. I didn't say a word. My interaction, for lack of a better word, lasted less than 10 seconds.
A few months ago (or was it last month? time drags but things aren't spaced as far apart as they feel), a middle-aged-probably older-white man was playing a violin inside the subway car I was in.
I watched.
Took off my headphones.
Listened.
He played for at least 2 minutes, if not more. He was brilliant, especially near the end of his performance.
Barely anyone (No one?) paid attention to him. I gave nothing. Said nothing. I wanted to though, on both counts.
I gave money to the boy to convey a message which, in hindsight, I should've told him directly: "Never stop playing."
Afterward, I analyzed these separate incidents and tried to determine what made me (and apparently many others) more generous to the boy than the man.
He's young. He's productive. He's dreaming of a better world where his talent will be noticed and appreciated.
The man is old. With his talent, he should have a job, not perform in a train.
The boy needs encouragement; the man does not. As a starving artist, he already knows he'll be overlooked by the world. People generally contribute to things they like, and classical music is a dying breed. Indeed, I read about the NYC Opera filing for bankruptcy only recently.
Excuses, excuses.
Shit. I had a point to make, but I had it yesterday. Now I don't remember it.
* - My favorite scam is the so-called blind man with black sunglasses who, upon reaching the end of the subway car with a No Exit sign, got off at the next stop to enter the next car. He didn't bother walking to the end of the car, just waited by the last set of doors as the train rode through the tunnels. How did he know about the No Exit sign?