Frank Sinatra singing gently over the roar of Starbuck’s customers, horns, laughing, the occasional burst of the steamer in a metal milk container.
A gentleman next to me precariously balancing his laptop on his lap. Plugging in the power cord, sipping his coffee and the music shifts to something a bit more uptempo.
Piaget’s stages and schemas fresh in my mind from early class. Sensori-motor, pre-operational, I think this is Bob Dylan, but I’m waiting for the harmonica.
There it is.