Heard it through the grapevine: news travels as fast as the subway itself
Sometimes I miss having a car. Usually this is when one of my tragically uncool friends back in Ohio manages to tell me about a cool band I somehow haven't heard of, and I realize that this person spends all day long in his or her car, listening to the great Columbus radio stations. New York has all of the best indie bands, of course, but absolutely no radio stations that interest me in any way. (Although I do like saying "
Con La Mega No Se Juega" over and over in my head.)
On the day of Michael Jackson's death, though, I was on my way to Grand Central on the 4 train when someone at one end asked if his co-worker had heard the news. The woman next to them leaned over and asked if she'd heard them correctly. Then she told the man she was with. Soon, the entire train was buzzing as each person passed it to the stranger next to him until it reached the other end of the car. By the time I made it up to the surface, the same thing was happening all along 42nd Street. No doubt among people who would never otherwise pay the slightest bit of attention to one another.
Friends called me from their cars to tell me the news, but who needs the radio when you have gossiping New Yorkers ready to engage in a game of telephone at any moment?