These days, with nearly 40 gigs of music spinning inside my iPod, I listen most any time I hit the subways or streets. And, by and large, it’s great. With sound-isolating high-fidelity buds in my ears, I barely hear the city grinding noisily away around me. With a click of ‘shuffle songs’, my entire CD collection pours seamlessly into my brain – from Aaron Copland to Zoot Sims, reminding me constantly of songs and bands I’d forgotten how much I love.

The problem is, from years of playing music, I can’t help but move in time to the beat. A year back, enrolled with a friend in a ballroom dance class, I was constantly amazed by the number of people with no sense of time – couldn’t they hear the music pulsing away? But, as iPodding goes, an overdeveloped feel for the rhythm is a bit of a disability – I can’t not move in time to the song. So, as my listening shuffles from slow ballad to up-tempo rocker, my walking speed shifts way up and down – a problem today when, already running late for a morning production meeting, I hit a stretch of laid back Clem Snide, Nico, Iron & Wine and Love is Hell Ryan Adams.

Despite broadening my (in-time) stride, I still arrived late. But it won’t happen again – just downloaded to the iPod is a ‘running behind’ playlist with enough Pixies, Donnas and Yeah Yeah Yeahs to have me fairly sprinting towards wherever I’m bound.