Time Square Lullaby. →[More:]
On my way home tonight, heading for the Time Square shuttle from Grand Central, a trio of trumpeteers were playing a ragtime rendition of "You are my Sunshine," a song my father was rather fond of singing in his charmingly, if rather painful, off-key bellow of a tenor. (He was so tone deaf, his elementary school choir teacher wouldn't let him sing; he threw the other kids off. He never got over it, and road trips were his special time to shine, with solo renditions of "Home, Home on the Range," and "Don't Fence Me In." I suppose I can be grateful he never took up show tunes.) But "You are my Sunshine" he sang for me. He died in '98.
One of the trumpet players even waved.