Just yesterday, I was stuck at a traffic light, the cars hissed like a thousand snare drums, the sirens in the distance were a perfect snare roll, and my own breathing was the bass—so I turned the whole thing into a little jazz routine right there, stepping in time with the beep‑boop of the lights, and even the people behind me started tapping their shoes. The world suddenly became a dance floor, and I was the director on a live set.