the dude with the joy of thousands.

on the brown line to kimball this afternoon, i held on to the rail by the window, pressed against the glass of the door, trying not to contemplate what kind of spidey-move i'd have to whip out if the doors flung open and i had to swing to safety via electrical lines strung between buildings.

when the el pulled up to the belmont station, i had the advantage of taking in an unobstructed view of the river of people heading west towards the train platform. amidst all the suits and ipod-accessorized 20somethings, the bluechip-implanted business people and flirty teens playfully pushing each other, there was one bearded dude (guy, man, boy - none of those really work here) with backpack and air drumsticks, fully rockin' out to whatever was playing through the orange-size earphones on his head. i tried to read his lips to catch the song, but my train took off before i was able to make an educated guess.

i wiped a tear away as the train pulled north, again professing that my heart is nearly, if not as sensitive, as my skin.

i'm not sure what it is, but i'm trying to find the common denominator among the things that make me cry. take, for example, my brother-in-law's graduation from UW last weekend. a number of schools were represented at his particular ceremony, but it was the school of nursing that got me. when they were announced, they broke out into wild applause and cheers for themselves (shannon told me later that the school of nursing is encouraged to fairly raucous). i was immediately teary-eyed.

for me, cheering, rallying, firework-watching, all of it thrills me. there's something about a bunch of people gathering together for the same purpose with excitement and hope and joy that shakes me with glee. i love it. it's why i'm already crying during extreme makeover:home edition before ty even says, "driver, move that bus!"

but here's this one guy walking home, jamming by himself. so what's the link between the one and the thousands? i think it feels like what should happen when you leave a "together moment." you know, like when you've been at a concert (like U2's this past spring) and you're dancing along with everyone else, and you get home and you're still dancing. like you carried the spirit with you.

it's like this guy had the spirit still with him, like he had a freedom with friends that carried over into his own life.

and to everyone who takes that kind of excitement and joy with them into their own lives, god bless you. it blesses me.