Jah-may-ka in Feely, Mon!

It is a hot Thursday afternoon and I opt for the air-conditioning of Suburban Station.  A slender black man comes up to me and stands with a gentle smile.  He is listening.  His head nods to the beat and at the end of the song, he says, "Dat is reel-y gooud."  I tell him it was one I wrote and ask him if he does music.  He says he sings and writes songs.  "I'd love to hear one of your songs," I say.  He starts singing a soulful, bluesy song with a reggae flavor.  I pick up the key and start backing him up softly, letting him have center stage.  He sings shyly, but loud enough for a few curious passers-by to smile and flash us a thumbs-up.  It is a great song.  We both gain energy from the music.  When he finishes, we both laugh with cathartic joy.  I tell him he has made my day.  He asks what I play besides original songs and I tell him about the covers and standards I have in my setlist.  "Here's one you probably know."  I play for him "Summertime" from Gershwin's "Porgy and Bess."  I've arranged it for guitar with a soulful harmonica solo in the middle.  He doesn't know the song and I am surprised.  I thought every knew "Summertime," if nothing else but Janis Joplin's version of it.  But he tells me, "I'm from Jah-may-ka, mon!"  We laugh and I thank him for singing his song.  We give each other the fist bump.  I don't want him to leave, but I know he has must move on.  I wish him well, thank him again, and start my next song.
I love playing on the streets of Feely-del-feeah, mon!