Many surgeons prefer to operate in complete silence. Not me! I love my tunes. I have the 14-minute version of "Rapper's Delight" cued up in each OR as I flip between them. My playlist (see my top 10 list above) contains songs ranging from such gifted artists as Big Daddy Kane to Mozart. Music energizes me and seems to rev up the spirit of the operating room. Published reports indicate music may enhance surgical performance. But musical taste varies considerably, as do playlists. Sadly, unless I insist on my music, I have to deal with the staff's musical taste, which falls into 1 of 5 categories:

• The Sentimentalist. This music aficionado prefers music from the good old days. Nothing but soft and easy favorites on this person's playlist: wedding songs, prom songs and melodies that bring them back to their backseat teenage makeout sessions. Not bad if you care to listen to Bobby Vinton and Neil Diamond all day. Worse yet, if the sentimentalist is of Medicare age, you may find yourself subject to Benny Goodman and other songs from the big band era. Break out the Metamucil!

• Backspin Devotee. Rappers and other backspin stars rule this one's playlist. Colorful names such as Slick Rick, Busta Rhymes, the Ying Yang Twins, Ice Cube and other artists whom I never heard of grace these song selections. The melodies are indeed intriguing, but profanities pepper the lyrics. So much so that after 3 sets of backspin, I'm ready to call for the priest!

• Heavy Metal Junkie. This music is flat-out angry. The dissonance and cacophony of this noise for some reason appeals to some. I liken this music to listening to dental drills interspersed with pile drivers. Depending on how much I like the staff member who claims ownership of this pain determines how long I do this penance. No wonder names like Megadeth, Carcass, Morbid Angel and Slayer author this carnage. After I endure this toxin I need a psyche consult to room 6 ... stat.

• Disco Fanatic. This middle-age staff member still watches Saturday Night Fever and wears polyester pants. He owns a dog named Travolta. A child of the seventies, disco still rules the music roost for this soul who suffers from delayed onset adolescence. Sadly, I share this affliction and I turned off many a staff member with my love for the Bee Gees. The good news is that I no longer slick my hair back, and for the past 5 years, I've abandoned the 3-piece white suit. Just don't mess with my Donna Summer greatest hits CD.

• Girly Man Disciples. Lastly I would like to poke fun at all those who hold what I call "girly man" music in high esteem. You know, the types of songs we used to slow dance to on prom night. These songs have a tempo set at glacial speed. Such songs do nothing to energize the operating room and are best reserved for anniversary dinners, elevators and K-mart. Don't get me wrong: Fine artists produced many of these songs. Just reserve them for my funeral.