Skylar is spending the afternoon with me in my office at work. I'm reading. She's making art. I've had my work computer's seven-gigabyte music library playing in shuffle mode the whole time. As is typical for her, she has been in a music-enhanced space while working on her project. Turn off the tunes and she'd be more restless and demanding. Leave them playing and she drifts blissfully on the sonic currents. Over the course of the afternoon we've heard Eric Satie, Astrud Gilberto, Richard Buckner, Camper Van Beethoven and The Carpenters, among others. But she didn't comment on any of the selections until a song from The Stooges' album Fun House came on. "Nice music, dad!," she said, looking up and nodding along to the beat. That's my girl.