The first: Walking to the T, I passed a old man belting Living On a Prayer at the top of his lungs as he walked down the street. He was screaming more than singing, but the enthusiasm he poured into it made the whole 'awesome' in a serendipitous way.
The second: A busker at Davis who was trying very desperately to imitate Chris Isaac ended up with a rendition of "Wicked Game" that was devoid of personality. I couldn't help wondering why he was trying to copy the style of an artist who had himself borrowed heavily from another. It was like he was channeling Roy Orbison's ghost by proxy.