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It dawned on me yesterday that the "incident" I experienced the other night on my way home was actually a case of profound techno-embarrassment.
It happened Monday. I was on a commuter train, surrounded by dozens of people and their gadgets: laptops, cell phones, BlackBerrys. I wanted to block them all out by listening to some Radiohead. My device was buried in the bottom of my bag somewhere, amid the notebooks and unpaid bills. But it seemed to take hours for me to reach down and find the "play" button.
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