Blogging to make sense of the world
I’m sitting in a coffee house on a Saturday night instead of going to a piano recital with my wife and daughters. Why didn’t I go to the recital ? Well, it’s complicated, but basically it was at a place that I didn’t want to be. So instead I’m sitting here on the computer, picking at the edges of a project form work and trying to figure out if there is something in my iTunes playlists that I want to listen to.
Did I mention it was Saturday night? That means open mic night at this particular coffee house, in a small midwestern town with a private faith-based university. The kid with the electric guitar is butchering Bob Seger’s “Here I go again…” and most of the crowd – a mix of college and high-school students – are ignoring him.
I think there is some irony in his choice of songs.
“Here I am, on the road again…”
This kid looks too young to have ever been on a very long road trip. When he sings the words he is trying to emulate the gravely road weary voice that he has heard on the original.
He finally finishes. Some minimal applause. He is replaced on stage by a girl with an acoustic guitar who is running through Taylor Swift’s vast discography. Besides taking the tempo of “White Horse” way to fast, she doesn’t have much of voice. Not that Taylor herself has a great voice. Maybe I will be interested in the music she is singing in about 20 years, when she (Swift) is too old to sing about the pain and tribulation of high-school romances.
Across the room is a young couple – I can’t tell if they are high-school or college. I guess I’m getting too old to sense the slight variation in age that happens from 16 to 20, that seemed so incredible important when I was going through those years myself. The couple is watching YouTube videos on a Mac Book. I suspect that they are college students, because high-school kids might not have the scratch to afford the more expensive Mac hardware. A foursome of high-school boys are playing some card game at a table near me, and from time to time they are visited by girls that are circulating and jumping up to look over the railing down to the first floor ever time the door opens, so they can see who is coming in.
My bagel is gone. I had to settle for an “everything” with cream cheese because they didn’t have chocolate-chip bagels. I guess Panera the Einstein Brothers have spoiled me. I’m hungry, although I shouldn’t be. And I’m sucking down the coffee way to fast. I might have to go grab a coke or something in a bit to quench the thirst that the coffee doesn’t seem to.
How does this help make sense of the world?
I’m not sure it does. I just haven’t had much opportunity lately to sit and watch the world go by. I used to do that a lot, but then I grew up and got busy with family and work, became a workaholic and plugged in to the computer. I sense the irony of that last one, since I’m sitting here typing all of this into a computer instead of reading a book or interacting with other people.
Another guy with an acoustic guitar is up there now, singing Bob Dylan’s “Knocking on Heaven’s Door”. At least he doesn’t have to try to hard as a vocalist to reach the bar that Dylan set. Still, it is ironic. This kid’s grandparent’s probably liked that song.
Time to move on. I can’t take too much more of this irony and loud music.
Can you make sense of your world?
