iYob

The other night on a whim I wandered down to The Basement to catch Daniel Weltinger's Django Reinhardt tribute show. 

The Basement is usually home to a well-informed crowd of music-lovers and one of the very few venues that would host this kind of show.  I say "usually" because on this night, the crowd was unbelievably boorish, talking loudly throughout the show, many of them feverishly tapping on their mobile phones.  At first I was annoyed at not being able to enjoy the music but then, as it became apparent that the musicians were also startled by the "ambient" noise-level, it felt embarrassing to be part of such a yobbish audience.

To cap it off, the guy next to me loudly starts to tell his mate about the new lyrics he's just written and is trying to find them on his phone.  So here I am trying to listen to the band play music that has stood the test of time for over 60 years and this clown thinks his latest thoughts are more worthy of everyone's attention. 

I'm about to lean over and tell the guy that unless the lyrics feature self-obsessed morons with delusions of grandeur and attention deficit disorder, they don't contain enough personal insight.   Then I remember that that's what thoughts are for.