I had some dental work today.

Ugh.

In all of the ugh though, there is some kind of wonderfulness in an old clunker walkman that when you roll your thumb rapidly over the volume dial towards the big end of the embossed triangle and have Brad Paisley or Darius Rucker or I-don't-even-care-who burst into song and overwhelm your ears and mind and senses and almost cancel out the horrible whirrrr of the drill.