While chauffeuring children today, I pulled up to a red light and noticed the expensive black 2-door sedan in the lane beside me. The car was immaculately clean while every other car on the roads today is grimy from salted roads and rain. The car directly in front of me pulled forward and as I followed I noticed the driver of the black car. He had neatly groomed white hair that stopped just above the collar of his dark suit and white shirt. His face was expressionless and he looked completely still except for his right shoulder. His shoulder rocked and swayed and it was clear that he was hiding whatever that arm was doing. I squished my bumper up so close to the car in front of me that a sneeze would have made our cars touch each other. The man trying so hard to look so, something, was playing air drums with his right hand. He was rocking out hard in the most guarded manner possible. He made me smile. I felt that pleasure of being so lost in the rhythm that you have the ability to play any instrument your mind can imagine. The light turned green and I lost my secret entertainment. I played with the music stations and stopped on something that made me bounce. And sing. And look completely ridiculous while I felt totally happy. I hope the man in the black car has someplace where he feels free to move more than just one arm kept hidden beneath the windows.