si estas inclinada

I had a wonderful time in Pittsburgh -- zooming from one thing to another so fast it gave me mental and emotional vertigo. I may or may not post extensively on my visit (I intend to, but you know what happens with my good intentions: They don't wind up paving any road at all), but today I would like to write about the most memorable five minutes of the trip.

After the Elvis Costello & Emmylou Harris concert (which was AMAZING), Garrett and I walked to the edge of Station Square at 11:15 p.m. and boarded the incline up Mt. Washington. For those who have never had the privilege of visiting Pittsburgh, let me say that the downtown is situated in the valley of the intersection of the famous Three Rivers, ringed around with very steep, high wooded hills (called "mountains" in this part of the country, and probably mountains indeed to anyone who has never been outside Indiana). Someone many years ago had the brilliant idea of engineering a mechanical lift ("incline") up the faces of the hills. The rails for the incline are lighted at night, making the already gorgeous downtown particularly spectacular, with chains of light running up and away from the city.

Garrett and I had ridden in the very back compartment of the incline on the way down, so we decided that, as the incline going up faces the city, we'd sit in the front compartment for a full glass-fronted view of the skyline on the way up. There were only two other passengers on the incline, sitting in the compartments behind us completely out of view.

Garrett was humming "Down in the River to Pray" (that lovely Alison Krauss song from O Brother, Where Art Thou?), and when he fell silent I started to sing it, quietly. Then the man in the back compartment called down, "We can't hear you up here!"

Thinking he was yelling at me, I called, "Sorry!" and shut up. After a moment he said, "No...we can't hear you up here. Sing louder."

So I sang the first verse as we rose up over the city. It echoed in the metal car. The man laughed and said, "I feel like I'm in church!" When I finished the verse I stopped and he said, "Come on, we have time for one more verse before we get out of here, I want to hear it again!"

So I sang the second verse. Garrett joined me on the harmony and when we finished the man said, "It's like a chorus! You should really do karaoke. Some places pay five hundred bucks for the winner. With your voice you could win."

Then the ride ended, and when we exited the car the other passengers were already gone, so I was spared the embarrassment of meeting the guy face to face. It was fun -- one of those once-in-a-lifetime moments of oneness that I'll carry with me forever -- the night, the city, the lights and the rivers and the hills, the yellow lit metal walls of the incline, the silent invisible audience, and the song.