Crazy Piano Guy

Saturday night, 12: 32 a.m. After spending a wonderful and funny and stormy afternoon with Mitzi and Wendy (which involved lines at tkts, coffee and brown betty at Grounded, smirks and songs like "It Sucks To Be Me" at Avenue Q, and pho at Bao), I walk down into the Union Square subway station to wait for the Q train. There's a dude playing a *real* piano down there—everything from "Billy Jean" to Billy Joel to A-ha to Journey (don't stop believin'!) to The Entertainer to Mozart to "Heart and Soul." The piano is on a cart. There are some straps. I sooo want to know how the hell he gets a piano into subway station, but he's too busy at the keys.

Apparently he's the Crazy Piano Guy. There's a good story about him here, and a slideshow here. He keeps four pianos in storage around the city, all convenient to busk-worthy locations. I hope I run into him again (I suppose that means choosing stations with elevators, huh? He's not that crazy!).

As the crowd grows (thanks to the fact that the Q is in no hurry to arrive), CPG breaks into a massive medley—playing each song just long enough to get a laugh, then moving to the next with a huge, full-body glissando. The piano shakes. Because some of the panels are missing, you can see its insides (these are city pianos—they've been around). People three tracks over gaze at us wistfully: Even though the sound carries through the whole station, you just want to be right there. To see those fingers fly. When my train finally shows up, I'm tempted to miss it on purpose just to hear a little bit more live music.

It makes me pine for my little piano back in Boulder. But I'm not crazy enough to move it into a 4th-floor walkup.