Sunporch Cha-cha-cha

Back when I commuted to work in a crammed New York City subway car - standing on my toes to reach the grab bar, balancing my bag on one arm and a book in the other, trying to turn pages during lulls in the lurching, always smelling things I didn't want to smell - I fantasized about being able to commute by bike. I used to bike to work. When I lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts, I biked through Harvard Square and across the Charles every day to my job at WGBH and only got hit by a taxi once. (Minor incident, thankfully). Now, I live in Berkeley and work at Coast Mastering, and my commute is this: I step outside in the cool sunny air and cruise down wide, empty bicycle boulevards, past reddening Japanese maples and rosemary bushes, on my beautiful Soma mixte, while listening to movie soundtracks.

Gratuitous bike selfie of the happy commuter:

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Don't yell at me for listening to music while I bike. I wear my earbuds as protection from wind noise, and I keep the music low enough that I can easily hear the traffic, sirens and occasional heckler.

But, oh, the joy of coasting down a quiet Berkeley street while listening to the soundtrack to The Graduate, not only the familiar Simon & Garfunkel songs, but also the Dave Grusin score, featuring such ear candy nuggets as Sunporch Cha-cha-cha.

Or Michel Legrand's brilliant scores to Les Demoiselles de Rochefort or The Thomas Crown Affair, so deeply cinematic and kinetic that I engage with my surroundings as though I am in the movie.

I could bike all day listening to movie soundtracks.