"What are those people over there staring at? Something in Times Square?"

"There's a huge crowd out there." The windows won't open, so we press our ears to the glass, leaving a print. "Sounds like... U2? But not a song I recognize."

We look up who was to be on Letterman that night. Oh my goodness: it was the Walrus. Goo goo g'joob.

"We have to go down there. He was a Beatle for Pete's sake."

The elevator is silent, full of 5:30 departures staring off into different corners of the box. I whisper to my co-worker. "There's this woman who was like an older sister to me growing up. I wish I had her cell phone number in my phone; she loves Paul McCartney."

The man behind us snaps and points his finger at the woman standing next to him. "Paul McCartney! That's who it is." The elevator booms with noise. They were only waiting for confirmation.

We find a spot a block away, in between the barricades and the street. I start texting furiously. "Paul mccartney is on top me the lettesman marquee!" "might be late. watching Paul mccartney on top me the ed sullivan theatre." Then I look around me. Everyone has some sort of device out. Every other person looking at their curled up paws clutching glowing screens. (Maybe at this point we need to revisit Joanne McNeil's post on the ubiquity of devices.) I put down my phone.

Well, the rain exploded with a mighty crash as we fell into the sun,
And the first one said to the second one there I hope you're having fun.

I can't help it; my head bobbles like Paul's.

When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide
Where I stop and turn and I go for a ride
Till I get to the bottom and I see you again
Yeah, yeah, yeah

Amazing. "This one's about a place that no longer exists."

You don't know how lucky you ah-are.

And then it's over. All of midtown walking away with a bounce in its step. And we hear it everywhere around us, shouted into every little glowing device: "You'll never guess who I just saw! This is why I love New York."

(For Becca, who used to kiss his picture.)