Tap your foot...

I wish my ipod dock wouldn't have entered early retirement days before my 11 month Christmas music ban was lifted. Everyone likes music. Some people do it for a living, others manically follow musicians and trends, some dabble with an instrument or two, and others swear they could care less about it but rightly tear up when the symphony is in full swell at the climax of a good film. In any case, when you encounter good music you typically respond.
Perhaps you tap your foot, or hum, or relax, or use the steering wheel as a percussive instrument. Maybe it is so good that you immediately go purchase it (as I have done more then I would like to admit). Whether consciously or not, gifted or not, there is a desire, acted upon or not, to engage with excellent music. To fall into step with it.
It occurred to me that we all have an unstoppable ambition to join the grand, untouchable and immeasurable. It is certainly not our survivalist nature that dictates this behavior nor a hedonistic notion of "letting loose." those are both self serving and incomplete in their diagnosis. The truly remarkable and pure act of tapping the foot to When the Saints go Marching In (I happened to listen to Louis Armstrong's version today) is born out of a natural, easy alignment to the human condition: love, lament, triumph, failure, nostalgia, hope, confidence, regret, fear and joy are all things we know well...but our tapping foot also points to another untraceable yet unmistakable human experience, the transcendence of it.