Another Night in the Media Ward
The music that blasts from the children’s shop next door to and below ours often gets stuck in my head, bursting back into my consciousness when least welcome. Today, it was playing the original “Someday My Prince Will Come,” Adriana Caselotti’s implausible vibrato slicing through the grinding groan frustrated traffic and the half-conversations of crowded, isolated people, only some of whom had telephones. On Saturday, it was the impossibly cheerful music of an imagined old world, a sort of Chipmunk Klezmer of the Damned.
