Music is personal. Aside from the top 40 tunes you hear played ad nauseum on the local radio frequency or on Sunday's  American Top 40 with Ryan Seacrest's fake nice voice (you just know he'd stab you in the back the first chance he got), there's no logical reason why some songs strike an emotional chord and others don't. You may try to share your enthusiasm over your latest musical find. "You've GOT to listen to this song!" But your musical gem often falls on tone deaf ears.

I'm constantly trying to find new artists--new to me, at least--or new songs by artists that I'm already a fan of.  Three artists new to me that my son recently introduced me to are Coconut Records, Jack Johnson, and Temper Trap. All very different, but all worth checking out.

When you discover a group or a song that you've never heard before, it somehow feels uniquely yours. It's not part of mass popular culture and you feel accomplished for having uncovered this wonderful secret to savor. You may share it with a few family and friends, but it's not being downloaded much on iTunes and you figure it's part of your private collection, more or less. Until it's not.

Months ago, I developed a playlist for the book I self-published, The Cure. I took it way too seriously. But it was a great project. Some of the songs were mainstream, but several were ones that I stumbled upon while searching music sites online. One of the first ones on my playlist was a song called The Dog Days Are Over by Florence and the Machine. The song was part of the album Lungs, released last summer. This was long before the release of the soundtrack for the movie Eclipse, on which the band had another song, which really brought them to the forefront. But even then, I hadn't heard anything about The Dog Days, so I kept it on my playlist.

Then, last week, after I had posted my playlist, I went to see The Kids Are All Right (great movie) and in the previews was a trailer for Eat, Pray, Love starring Julia Roberts. I almost swallowed my tongue when blaring from the sound system, with Ms. Roberts smiling from ear-to-ear, was "my" song The Dog Days Are Over by Florence and the Machine. It is now the theme song to what is sure to be a blockbuster of a movie based on the bestselling book of the same name by Elizabeth Gilbert.

They had stolen my song. The one I had discovered before the masses. I was angry, resentful, hurt. Instead of uncovering this musical gem, it would now appear as if I were just riding the wave of a popular movie and grabbing the first hot song that came along.

Ridiculous, I know. But that's how it felt as I heard the dreamy rhythm that I now know by heart, blasting through the theater. Like I said, music is personal. I'm mad as hell Eat, Pray, Love stole from my private collection. But, I'm happy for Florence and the Machine's success. They deserve it. Now, I'm going to have to do some serious musical escavating to find a suitable substitute.