Billy Joel, climate queen

Have to call 'em like I see 'em

With so much focus on celebs and the consequences of their PJs (private jets, not jammies), I thought it time to celebrate someone commuting with the people. He’s none other than Billy Joel.

Mr. Joel was reported riding the Long Island Rail Road (LIRR, pronounced “ler” to LI natives like myself) to and from his shows at Madison Square Garden. North Shore or South Shore, every Long Islander knows you’re gonna get to the city faster on the train than you are driving at rush hour. That’s just math. But Billy nixed his PJ for safety reasons* (“I got a little freaked out. Sometimes there’s a little turbulence in the helicopter.”).

*Less safe is riding a motorcycle in the rain, guy.

“People will sometimes look at me on the railroad and think, ‘Look at this guy, trying to look like Billy Joel. He’s not kidding anybody,’” Billy told Newsday. “It’s still a great way to go.”

I’m positive I’d not recognize Billy Joel on the LIRR, but that’s really a me problem, not a Billy Joel problem.

Discussing his means of transportation with Stephen Colbert, Billy did not lean into the climate narrative (get cars off the road, reduce emissions, support community over individualism, yadah yadah yadah). Instead, he took a much less relatable approach:

“For two and a half hours, you’re onstage, you’re Mussolini. They’re yelling your name, they’re clapping, they’re cheering, they’re loving,” Joel said. “Then you jump in a car and you drive into New York traffic and you’re just another schmuck in traffic. Wait a minute, I was just Mussolini, what happened to me? And some people can’t handle that transition.”

A climate-first narrative rarely sells anything, really, so the LIRR can thank BJ for creating this new, sexier campaign: Ride that train, embody a fascist dictator.

Do we think Mr. Joel has a monthly pass? Does he opt for the senior discount? Does he wear a hat? Does he get annoyed when the Mets play at Citi Field and the crowd’s makeup is two different types of tall boys and a lot of blinding orange?

Some people may wonder if they could have sat in that very same Italian restaurant that Billy famously sings about. Now Long Islanders can, at the very least, feel smugly assured that we ride the same train as the piano man.

Cheers to Billy and only Billy.