i feel a song comin on

There's a rhythm that New Yorkers fall easily into, on subways and on sidewalks and in buses and good lord yes, in crowded supermarkets, but the rhythm in-transit is especially interesting. Where you're detained until your destination. No one to push past, once the initial entrance-- no groceries to distract you; can't snarl at a rude being like you might, oh, say in line at the post office-- you keep your eyes down but aware, cause the crazy next to you is itching for a captive audience, and you could have four or forty stops to go.

I have this daydream that I'll get a whole subway car to burst into song together, like a musical, only with awesome music (look, some musicals suck). Maybe after a Yankees game, or an election, or, you know, during the holidays. This time of year seems exactly right, everyone has an air of anticipation in these early days of December: there's still plenty of time to get everything done! And who remembers that the January-February-March post holiday blinding rage that goes ON AND ON AND ON is RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER? NOT ME, SIR!!! I think I could get that first-week-of-December-car to belt it out as deeply as I believe I have super secret mutant powers of invisibility, flight and telekinesis just waiting to blossom.

Yesterday on the A train (a bit on the nose for this musical musing, but true) a toddler quietly lalalaaaaaaa'd something extremely reminiscent of Barney's tune. YOU KNOW THE ONE. The train stopped between stations, indefinitely. Or rather, as the operator put it, indefffly. Toddler began to lala louder. After forty seconds or so of this, a stranger seated next to her looked down, smiled, and, almost embarrassed, barreled through iloveyouyoulovemewe'reahappyfamily (awkward pause)...that's whatcher singin, right? 

It's hard not to miss, I grinned from across the aisle. Stranger agreed: who c' forget it? Mother hung her head. Yeeeeeah.  

Only's it's way cuter coming out of her than a purple dinosaur, I offered.

We all smiled at each other as the train pulled forward, and with an air of nonchalance returned our gazes to the fascinating (yet obviously boring) things all around us. Three women: Latina, possibly Jewish, and whatever I am, staring at Art Of Shaving ads and the contents of people's pushcarts. When that train began to move again, we immediately adopted the proper amount of that was a nice exchange but don't worry I'm not crazy, you have no idea what stop is mine and I don't want you to freak about holding up a conversation with me till maybe the Bronx.

So far I've only reached the "support level" of singing in trains (although I do recall several occasions where Rob and I found it extremely necessary to figure out the harmonies to Sam Cooke + Lou Rawls' tune "Bring it On Home to Me," in what was probably not our inside voices).

If you did it, if you chose to burst into song like some 1940s musical star without a care in the world, someone who knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there would be an instantaneous, resounding and raucous chorus creating a cacophony within seconds, what song would you choose? Whaddaya think would make them sing?