Underground Extremes

After work I decided to go to my favorite store, Economy Candy. It is among what’s left of the tenements in the Lower East Side. There’s no place like Economy Candy. It’s been around since the 1930s and it takes a trip there to experience how wonderful an old fashioned candy shop can be. They have everything. Name a candy bar. They have it. They also have big tubs of candy in bulk. Caramels, Mary Janes, Bit-O-Honey. They have dozens of kinds of licorice, even Danish double salt. They have Zagnuts, Skybars, Wax Lips, Bottle Caps and Razzles. They have French Taffy Chews. Black Jack gum, as well as Beemans, Clove and Teaberry. Candy cigarettes and bubble gum cigars. Pop rocks, candy necklaces and Zotz fizz candies. Pixie sticks and Mallo bars. Clark Bars. Oh Henry! Sugar Daddy. Charleston Chews. Chick-o-sticks. Need I go on. And Economy Candy is probably no bigger than your living room.

But this is not really about Economy Candy, as wonderful as it is. This is about my trip to and from.

I get off work at 9:00 a.m. so when I’m on my way home, it is still full-on rush hour. It can be pretty harrowing and people are generally in no mood for joviality. But as I got off of the F-train at Essex and Delancy Streets, I heard the most wonderful, impossible sound.

A crowd had gathered round two musicians, just two old guys, one on a sax and the other on a fiddler. They were clearly Eastern European, totally fitting for the Lower East Side. I know the saxophone and the violin sound like an odd but it was magical. They were playing Hello Dolly! A couple of people were even dancing. And people were dropping dollar bills in their hat like crazy. It was one of those moments that you just don’t expect, especially during the Friday morning rush. I would have bought a cd but I didn’t have any cash. And anyway, it wouldn’t be the same.

So I went to Economy Candy. I was specifically looking for Kinder Eggs, a candy popular in Europe and Canada but illegal in the U.S. For some reason it is not legal to put toys inside candy in this country. But my friends’ little girl collects them and I was sure I could find them at Economy Candy. Sure enough. The guy had them. He doesn’t even hide them. But he does limit the number you can buy. I bought the limit (5) and went on my way.

I took the train uptown and at Columbus Circle, I changed to the 1 Train. At 135^th Street in Harlem, a middle-aged, Central American man, probably Mexican, with an accordion got on. Now some of these guys who ride the rails playing their traditional music all the time and some of them are really good. But this guy. Well, he couldn’t play the accordion. And he couldn’t sing. I mean, he couldn’t sing. And evidently, he couldn’t sing and play the accordion at the same time. He would make some noise on the accordion, a few dissonant chords, and then he would warble a few lines. I was listening to music on head phones but I could hear enough as he was standing right beside me. I laughed, a bit out of pity. I actually worked out in my mind how to say, “I’ll give you money if you stop,” in Spanish. But I thought it better to keep quiet.

He stopped and made a little speech, something like, “Thank you for listening and thank you very much for your generosity.” And then he took off his hat and made his way through the car. From what I could tell, he got three dollars. Not bad for two minutes between stations, roughly a dollar a minute.

You just never know what you’re going to get in New York City.