Ideas - Part 1 - the Urban Whale Song

I think one day soon someone will do this - and make lots of money from it. I've just been too lazy to buy some kind of hand-held recording device and get this started. But riding the subways - our urban whales - swimming, gliding, underground - under our city - you hear the kinds of noises that reminds one of Star Trek IV, only one of the BEST of the Star Trek movies, I don't care WHAT you say - Sven! the whales rocked!

Anyway, I digress.
The sounds that sometimes come out of the grinding metal or creaking rails is astounding. Sustained notes of anguish or lonliness or just perhaps, maybe...a Northbound Yonge-University line train trying to communicate with it's poor cousin, the East-bound Bloor-Danforth line train. Oh, what's that? You don't know why I would say such a thing? Well, just take a ride on the different lines one of these days and you'll see what I mean...even the seats are nicer (consistantly - perhaps not every single time, sometimes a good car slips through and the East-Westers get to ride on the shiny cars). You know I'm right.
Again, digressing.

I wonder what a collection of these recordings would sound like...maybe different times of the day, sound different - or different lines sound different or different groupings of stations - like the Runnymede to Lansdowne stretch, lots outside-inside parts vs. the deeper tunnels near Spadina.

If you steal my idea, just have the decency to send me a free copy.

what do ya need? what do ya got?

Simple question, really - it's too bad we rarely ever have a definite answer - at least one that will stand the test of time.
I work at an investment bank and I don't think people there have any other need than to make money. Not environmentally cooperative, but at least it's honest.

My friend Sue-Sue (the name she will go by on here) was telling me the other day that her workplace had some salsa lessons (mamba? something spicy, can't remember) going on in their cafeteria and I was confused - does your company offer free lessons? (--as I dreamed about finally being able to execute a spicy dance--) - she sarcastically replied with some insult about where I work (it's a weekly occurance, especially since so many lately have been so very responsible for so much heart ache!) - "free? we don't sell money here, you know!".
I corrected her.
We don't sell money, Sue-Sue, we sell dreams.
My dream was to work in the pet store downstairs in the concourse and rescue small animals that were not being bought by bringing them back to my home. But tomorrow it'll be something else.