On a summery September day, I took a stroll over to Rockwood Music Hall, one of my favorite joints.  It’s a short walk from my place – maybe eight blocks total.   I was in my own world thinking about how wonderful it was to still be wearing a sundress and sandals, when I heard an old woman yelling, “excuse me, Miss!”  For a second I considered she might be talking to me, but then I thought “nah, she’s probably talkin’ to someone else.” So, I tucked my head down and kept walking for another block and a half.

Then I reached a stop light and had to wait to cross.  Suddenly, the old lady was just a few feet away and she was running right towards me.  “Excuse me, Miss!  I’ve been trying to talk to you for two blocks!”  She was winded.  Like, bend-over-and-put-your-hands-to-your-knees-while-you-catch-your-breath winded.  “I just wanted to tell you your dress is so beautiful.  You look lovely.”

I was awestruck.  I could barely crank out a sheepish thank you.  We had a small exchange about where I bought the dress and then the light changed and we went our separate ways.  I can’t recall a time in my life where I felt more like an asshole.  This poor old lady walked (no, ran!) out of her way for no other reason than to pay me a compliment.  Who does that?!  People who haven’t bought into the head down, head phones on, no talking NYC way of life  – that’s who!

That small exchange was a real eye-opener for me. The truth is, I didn’t look her way the first time I heard her because I didn’t know what she wanted and I didn’t want to get involved. How sad that my assumption was that she needed something from me.  Even more sad that I predetermined  I wasn’t going to be helpful.  Yes, I’m sure this is due to being bombarded with panhandlers all around the city asking for a dime, but desensitization is not an acceptable excuse for shutting yourself off to other human beings.  We’re all here doing the best we know how.  Trying to connect with fellow man.   I don’t know the woman’s name or anything about her, but I will forever remember the kindness in her eyes. And I will try to forever carry inside of me the urgency to pay forward a compliment or do something positive for someone else. I hope I live my life being out of breath just like her.

Suggesting musical pairing to enhance your reading pleasure: