We No-Where-istanis need an anthem, something to rally around. I was worried about how to choose the right song — a song to capture the mood, the state of mind (or whatever) and the gestalt of No-Where-istan.
On Friday, I was mulling this on my way into the subway. The 42nd Street-Times Square Station often gives me inspiration. Into the bowels of New York I descended. I saw this woman getting ready to play her saxophone:
She did not ask for money, just business cards. She was just learning how to play, as in she would not make the B squad of the high school band. Maybe she was an out-of-work Wall Streeter, trying to find her inner Marsalis.
Anyway, she started playing, of all things, No Where Man by the Beatles. For all I know, she was trying to play On the Good Ship Lollipop, but No Where Man came out in fits and starts from her saxophone. I was the only one who stopped. More accurately, I was the only one not running away from the noise.
Then I thought, “No Where Man. No-Where-istan. THAT’S IT!!! It is a real No-Where-istan. . . .”
Another inspirational moment in the subway.
This nation-building thing is really coming together, eh?