I got a
kick out of these guys.
I stopped to listen to the end of a song, and then I chatted with them for a bit. They were friendly, funny and engaging.
Tyler, the young man in the middle with the guitar, was particularly charming. I can't tell you if his singing was in tune or if he had perfect pitch, but I
can say that he had a strong pleasant voice that gave me goose-bumps on my little nymph arms.
They were playing their music and singing in the middle of the chaos and destruction that is part of
Bank Street these days.
"So, are you guys part of a band?" I asked.
"No, we're just playing for the fun of it," responded Tyler.
"You guys are like at the Blue Skies of Punk," I said not too cleverly in reference to their surroundings.
"Sure, country's cool too!" responded Tyler.
Maybe he thought I said Blue Grass.
On Sunday I heard strange noises in my little bathroom. When I looked in I found five zombies all admiring themselves and each other in the mirror.
