If You've Got it, Flaunt It

One day this summer as I left my office building, I found myself greeted with a bizarre and unrecognizable noise as I pushed my way through the revolving door. Because it seemed so loud, it took my brain a few seconds to place it – Is that an alarm? Cell phone? Screaming Cat?

Nope. It was just a guy singing – and singing very enthusiastically.

Now, you may think that since my brain came to associations like “screaming cat” before I saw him that he was probably pretty awful - but, not so! He had the bravado and volume that brought true life to the Mariah Carey song he was belting. And, with the dance moves he was so unashamedly performing, he was probably good enough for some local stages (Pittsburgh Idol, perhaps?). But, here he was, outside of the US Steel Building, dancing and singing along to the song pumping through his iPod earbuds.

As I got closer, I couldn’t help but stare. “Is he a street performer?” -- No… hes not in a performance location and has no hat or cup begging for my spare change. “Is he mentally ill?” -- Doesn’t seem to be. “Are his headphones so loud that he doesn’t know how loud he is singing?” – Certainly not! The more I examined this wandering minstrel, the more I became convinced that he was just singing for the heck of it. He must LOVE singing – and he must KNOW that he is good (how else could he be seemingly free of public shame or embarrassment?). And he must just LOVE to share his gift!

I stood there admiring his gusto, but I couldn’t help but notice that everyone else was staring with the same amount of confusion I had had just a few moment before. There were whispers, eye rolls, blatant laughs and points. But, NOTHING affected the Pittsburgh Idol.

As he came back around to the chorus in an elevated key (“And then a hero COMES along, with the strength to carry on…”), my mind wandered to imagine a utopia where everyone in the world shared their gifts and loves on the streets. In my head --- people were dancing their way to the bus stop, sketching my picture as they wait in line at the bank, holding debates in the aisles of the grocery store, helping me put together trendy outfits as I window shopped, and balancing my checkbook for me at church. And it was JUST as Pittsburgh Idol finished his last note that I was drawn from my daydream with the very scary thought that I had NO idea what talent or gift I would be sharing on the streets in this world.

What am I good at? What do I love? What are my gifts? What is wrong with me that I can't seem to find easy answers to these questions at the age of 25?

I guess I can only hope to someday have the guts to sing on the streets for no reason. Oh, but don’t worry, I most certainly mean that in the figurative sense.