Why do years flood by unnoticed, and moments linger forever? On a beautiful morning in New York back in autumn, 1979, I walked up Sixth Avenue to my music business copywriting job. On my belt was my new Sony Walkman, the silver and blue one — model TPS-L2 — that introduced the line to the world. I was one of the first to own it.
Music was everything to me. I was struck by the feeling of being immersed in the city’s overwhelming pulse, and isolated from it at the same time. And as I crossed 51st Street, sensing only the power and clarity of the music, suddenly I felt a pat on my shoulder. I looked around. She was young. Blonde. Beautiful. And she was smiling at me. She pointed at the headphones on her ears, and her own Walkman swinging by the strap slung over her shoulder. We nodded at each other, knowing in this city of eight million, we enjoyed an uncommon bond.
We were a community. We shared just that moment. (Couldn’t have heard each other even if we spoke). Two New Yorkers on their way to work. But right then, I learned the value of investing in The New. If nothing else, it can get you smiles.
What plaesant moment in time remains indelible to you?
