A middle-aged man is sitting on a park bench in Prospect Park. Somehow, one gets the impression that he has been a die-hard Pink Floyd fan for the past twenty years or so. The man is vigilantly observing every single passerby as he listens to the music blaring through his ostentatious headphones. Instead of an iPod, the man’s headphones are connected to an actual Discman. After a period, he decides to listen to another artist from days gone by so he reaches into the backpack sitting next to him on the bench and pulls out a stack of actual Compact Discs in their cases. After rifling through his stack of CDs, he selects an album, removes it from its case, and inserts it into his Discman. Once he’s placed the previous CD back in its case, he returns to attentively watching the people milling about Prospect Park, entirely unaware of the stares he receives in return for his relic of yore.