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?