You wouldn't know it by looking at her, but this child was wailing minutes before I took this photo. We've all seen it—the crying baby on the bus, in a plane, at the supermarket. It's enough to make anyone not related to the kid squeamish and frustrated, myself included. Who likes to see another human in distress? Not this human. Which is why I've always tried to morph into The Baby Whisperer when I see a screaming baby. Maybe it's my big head or my furry eyebrows or my willingness to make the sort of goofy faces that most mature adults refrain from. Whatever the case, I feel like I've got a gift. That's how this moment happened. This little girl and I had a solid connection for a good 5 or 10 minutes on the B52 bus heading towards the Barclay Center, after she went from crying inconsolably...to laughing hysterically. Loudly. Repeatedly. It got to the point where the entire bus was silent—except for the blissful belly laughs erupting from this child every 10 or 15 seconds, each explosion of joy a reaction to the stupid faces I couldn't stop making. Her laughs were like a drug for me. I couldn't get enough. Her mom turned around to see what the hell was making her little girl light up like that. The somber faces around us couldn't help but look at this little tyke and smile. For a short bus ride down Greene Ave., through Clinton Hill and Fort Greene on our way to BAM, this baby girl and I performed a wordless duet of facial expressions and laughter that I won't soon forget. The Baby Whisperer strikes again!
Do I know you? One man's attempt at a lifelong head count.
NOTE: If you think I might have a photo of you—most likely at least one great photo of you—don't be afraid to ask me to post it (firstname.lastname@example.org) along with a brief entry about how I know you. And if I've met or known you but don't have any photo evidence, feel free to send along YOUR favorite photo of you. (I'm fascinated by what that slideshow might look like.)