Walking to the subway through nasty gray slush, I caught a familiar tune from the open window of a car stopped at a light on 4th Avenue. The Beatles' Can't Buy Me Love. The driver was singing along, absolutely belting it with no shame. Everyone I passed on the sidewalk glanced at the driver (this is NYC, you know, so they were all cool and subtle about it), smiled, and kept on walking. The few pedestrians I made eye contact with smiled back at me in tacit acknowledgment of how effin awesome it was that some guy was belting out a Beatles song for us all to hear on a gray Wednesday morning commute.