After my morning commute, I parked my car along the street, as I normally do, and was about to get out of the car to go to work. Only this time, after putting the gear in park, I stopped for just a  moment to listen to a 1977 live version of Tony Bennett singing, I left My Heart in San Francisco. I’d heard the original before, but this was a newer, lighter arrangement. I hadn’t heard it and thought that perhaps I could add it to my own act. I reached over to adjust the volume when there was a loud crash and I was shoved into the seat divider.

I looked up and there was a young kid, around 18 years old, sitting behind the wheel of his car, looking as perplexed as I must have. He had taken a turn going 30 mph and lost control of his car, smashing, and destroying my driver’s side door. Though shaken, and a bit sore, I was alive. We exchanged insurance information and I didn’t really think much about it.

Later that night, though, lying in bed, I thought about the day’s events: the police reports, trying to rent  a car during the busiest week in South Florida, insurance headaches, more police reports, back pain. I found myself starting to go down that “woe is me” route.

But then I stopped myself.

I slowly realized that as bad as the day was, there was something else going on.

I never sit in my car when I get to work. I park the car and get out quickly. Had I not paused for those 30 seconds to listen to the Tony Bennet song, I would have been standing outside my car, closing the door, when that car would have come careening into me.

In short, I would not be here to write this.

It was a sobering thought. At that moment, all the headaches of the day disappeared. I realized how many of us interpret a situation as bad, when in fact, the opposite might be the case. It all depends on how you look at it. It was a stressful day, true, but at that moment I chose to see it for what it was: a miracle.

Tony Bennett saved my life. As a singer, I couldn’t ask for a better miracle.

Thanks, Tony.

Avi in the Studio