Today I was driving through Great Barrington, a cute New England large-ish town, waiting for someone to finish a doctor’s appointment. I got myself an icecream cone that was dribbling down my fingers by the time I got to the car because of the heat. I climbed back in the car and turned on the radio, which happened to be playing ragtime music. I sat and watched a bumper-stickered Vermont car drive by and two labs stick their heads way out the window to stare at me. I watched a man in a lime green shirt walk by with his two young daughters skipping beside him. I watched an older couple saunter down the street arm in arm. I watched many other people move a little slower than they might have normally because of the heat — linger a little longer and perhaps notice a little more. And all of this was to my own personal soundtrack of Scott Joplin. Ah… Now that’s living.