Years ago in college, I worked in the box office of a small theatre in San Francisco that booked an extended run of the show Stomp. I remember the first time I saw the show and watched in complete awe as the performers turned ordinary items into musical instruments. That night, on my walk to the train station, everything began to seem like music: cars whooshing by, homeless people shaking cans of coins, bars dumping glass in bins, the trolley ringing its bell.