Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to ever come face to face with the Naked Singing Cowboy of NYC. Well, I did and here’s my story. Recently I traveled to NYC for work. I don’t usually have the chance to go to NYC and do the touristy thing, and with all honesty, never had the inclination to ever do it. My family is from there, and Zen Master and Zen Mum had moved away a long time ago, going south where it was calmer and greener.
Because we still have family there, on occasion we would go back for visits. But rarely do I go up there for the day for work. Until recently.
On my way to Penn Station
I was there for work for only one day. And the best mode of transportation is always taking the train into the City, which I did. But the best part of that day was going home. So with my book bag secured on my back, and my handbags snug in front, I power walked my way down to Penn Station. Google pointed me to walk down 7th Avenue, and without any thought, I did exactly that.
And belatedly realized that I was in the middle of Time Square.
You see it all the time on TV but you never really think about it in real life. At least I don’t. Again, really never had any inclination about it. Occasionally I’d think that it would be cool to take in a Broadway show, but as soon as that thought would appear, it would disappear because I have zero interest in traveling up here and being in the steel jungle.
But I’m always about being in the present moment, no matter where I am.
Which was exactly what I did, by stopping in mid-track and taking pictures of Times Square. Actually being in the moment, breathing in the city polluted air and just soaking in the magic that just happened to be all around me.
In the zone…in the zone…in the zone…
And then I snap myself out of it and focused. Because home girl needs to get to Penn Station to catch the train and go home!
The Naked Singing Cowboy – New York City, NY
So with intense focus, I booked down 7th Avenue, passing people, places and things. I found myself also in the midst of a stream of people with the same intentions, going to Penn Station. I felt like I was a salmon following the swarm of salmons, all going uphill.
Until someone stepped directly in front of me.
He was dressed in nothing but bleached white brief underwear with the bold red letters painted on it: Naked Singing Cowboy. Yes, yes, I did look down at his package. How can you not when you come face to face with an almost naked man?
Dude was tall and lean, a well tanned model with not a single thing of fat anywhere.
I had more fat than this guy!
He wore cowboy boots and a cowboy hat, and across his bare chest was a guitar with the red lettering Naked Singing Cowboy.
For a fleeting second, I thought I should take a picture of this guy. And then he strummed his guitar and sang, “I’m the naked singing cowboy.” I shook myself out of it and frowned at him. Only in New York, I thought. Dude is in my way and I’m not wasting one more second to take a picture of a crazy naked dude.
So I kicked into gear and just zip right around him and rejoined the swarm of salmon.
Homecoming
Zen Master and Zen Mum picked me up at the train station and I drove us home. I told them about the Naked Singing Cowboy, thinking they’d get a kick out of the continuous strangeness that only happens in NYC. But Zen Master just shrugged.
“You should’ve taken a picture.” He said. “He’s famous.”
“Get out, Pop.” I said, not believing a word he’s saying to me. “How would you know?”
“We used to live there. Of course I know.” He just gave me a smirk. “I’m smarter than you.”
So yes, it seems everyone was smarter than me because I didn’t know about the Naked Singing Cowboy. I told my neighbors, and yes, they knew. I told my co-workers at work, and yes, of course they knew about the Naked Singing Cowboy.
And that’s how I learned that the Naked Singing Cowboy actually had his own Wikipedia page.
I came face to face with an internationally known star and I didn’t get a bloody picture of him.
Oh. Well.
Sally in the Zen
