Rhythm

So, today I had one of those embarrassing incidents where you're walking along purposefully, happen upon live music and, try as you might, you can't help but walk to the beat of the music. It's an organic process. Walking through a l-o-n-g corridor to the F train (okay, yes, I know) and a gentleman with a weatherbeaten violin case open for tips is playing the saxophone. And he's playing the theme to the Pink Panther (dadant dadant ... dadant ... dadant dadant dadant dadant dadaaaannnnnt ... diddle-y-boop-ah - DA da da da da da dadadada biddly bum ba) and though I was in a cranky mood and had to be somewhere and was wearing little heels, I found myself traipsing along in time to his playing. I sped up, he did. I slowed ... you get the picture. Perhaps I'm in the midst of a wacky caper.