Casual Radio Gods

I'm not a huge fan of the mystical. I tend instead to sneer skeptically at anything that borders on the otherworldly, and I will generally point out that all unidentified flying objects are just that until they have been identified. Microwave ovens are no magical to me than the spirits in the material world.
This is not to say that I don't subscribe to my own personal mythology. A good example of this is the Radio Pixies. These mischievous little sprites live in the receivers of most commercially available AM and FM radios. They tend to be most active when the humans listening to said devices are emotionally agitated in some way or another. A specific case of this can be seen in Albert Brooks' film, "Modern Romance." After breaking up with his girlfriend, Robert Cole is driving through the streets of Los Angeles, punching buttons on his car radio unable to find a song that doesn't immediately reference a lost love or love gone sour. This happens to all of us at one time or another.
You can imagine my surprise when I found that these same wicked creatures are bent on interfering with my peaceful enjoyment of my MP3 player. There is a direct cause and effect relationship between the contents of this machine and the owner. The chance operation of "shuffle songs" would seem to take some of the edge off of the fact that all the songs were chosen my me, the user - but the sequence and segues are at times a revelation.
All of this leads me to the comforting notion that there are still balls of energy pinballing around our world that create coincidence, and that souls don't disappear. We carry them around with us to keep in touch with the people and ideas that we hold dear. Hearing a song that makes you cry is a gift from the world that we live in, not from beyond. That doesn't mean it's not magic.
"If I live to be a hundred and two
I just don't think that I'll get over you."
- Colin Hay