Today’s Metro: The Best Way To Spread Christmas Cheer, Is Singing Loud For All To Hear

Somewhere between Rosslyn and Foggy Bottom, I thought I heard bits and pieces of Silent Night. At first, I figured Diet Coke deprivation was leading to bizarre musical-Schizophrenia-like experiences. And then, as it continued, I began to wonder if my iPod had become possessed by DJ Jazzy Jeff and was consequently blending Christmas hymns with Trains to Brazil. As the Metro pulled into the station, my playlist ended. And there it was again: a lone voice, sort of reedy, proclaiming that Christ, the savior, was being born. I took off my headphones and looked around.

Through the Commutership and 84 people lugging over sized suitcases on their way to BWI, I saw a short, older Asian priest holding a Bible to his chest. I’d located The Metro Caroler. And oddly enough, I wasn’t weirded out like I am by the other religious nutsos who ride the Metro. I mean, the Guy With The Big Abortion Signs or the Woman Who Spreads The Gospel Of Jehovah’s Love Dust? Strange and annoying in a Pee-Wee-Herman-on-every-channel sort of way. But there was a peace about The Metro Caroler. He had a certain contentment and self-assurance that even the hostile stares of the Commutership couldn’t shake. Suddenly, while I was watching him engage in his Metro Singing Solo, I got this peculiar urge to channel my inner Mariah Carey and join in. Seems his special brand of whacky is contagious.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one infected. A few seconds after the doors closed, at the chorus, another voice weakly joined the The Metro Caroler. And another one. And then like six more. Until suddenly, it was as if Metro Magic had morphed us into an off-key version of the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Voices were signing Silent Night from all corners of the train car. We got through one round of the hymn before the Metro arrived at Farragut West. There, the doors opened and the train car emptied, leaving The Metro Caroler once again singing alone. But on the escalator, I heard a woman humming Silent Night and I couldn’t help thinking that maybe, The Metro Caroler was sort of DC’s version of Cindy Lou Who.