It takes all kinds of crazy from all kinds of people to make New York City a unique human experience.  A key to survival in this city is to think you are less crazy than at least one other person.  And if all you can do is feel less crazy than a raving lunatic, well, then, you only need to walk a few streets in either direction to find a more subtle version of crazy.  Of course, you don’t always have time to search for a less lunatic, but still crazier, person.

Here’s is what I mean:

If you are running late in New York City, the best way to travel is by subway.  Of course, the impulse is to take a cab because it should be faster since it is a door-to-door trip.  But there is always traffic in this City.  Yet, what did I do yesterday morning when I was running late for work (as I often do)?  Yep, I took a cab.  And I was surprised and frustrated that there was no magically clear avenue for the cab to zip down.  Even more irritating was that my driver was a traffic magnet.  Who drives down Broadway from the upper west side to midtown at 9:15am?  And, adding insult to injury, he had been a cab driver for years (I asked).  Still, I wondered why taking a cab didn’t miraculously reduce the time it takes to get to my office.  Crazy is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.

Realizing this, I had to find someone very quickly who was more crazy than I.

But I am in the backseat of a cab stalled in traffic a few blocks above the Time Warner Center at Columbus Circle.  Agitated, I looked all around me.  There were the odd assortment of passersby but no one crazy enough to be crazier than I.  I felt a cold sweat come on.  In my head, I was screaming:  I cannot be the craziest person in this City!!!!!

Then I saw a homeless man standing in front of a former bank branch doing his Yoga stretches in the sunshine.  He was breathing in deeply as he moved his arms in arcs above his head and down.  Then he did the stretch with an arched back (something that has a name that contains the word dog?).  All I know was that he was breathing in deep, cleansing (ok, it is New York City, so not so cleansing) breaths and seemed to be calm and happy.  Ok, he is a crazy, homeless man because if you are homeless you simply cannot be serene and happy unless you are crazy. And, according to the great philosopher Forrest Gump, crazy is as crazy does.

So, I was less crazy that morning than the man on the street.  And some days, that is the best you can do.