We’re shooting part of the intro for “The Week in Advertising” this a.m., so I’ll be preoccupied somewhat. Please for to forgive.
I’m in a particularly good mood this a.m., because as I strolled from the S train to connect with the 6 at Grand Central, I was serenaded by the vocal sensations of the lady in the tunnel. You know who I’m talking about. She’s there a few times a week, just sitting on the tile bench, comfortably painting the tunnel with her lavender voice.
What makes her distinct are her song choices. Each tune has a markedly eerie tone; and while overall they’re soothing, her voice reminds me that nothing is perfect. Her singing is truth, scant of idealism yet comforting — stopping just before the point of aural naivete.
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