I saw a meme on Facebook a few days ago that said, “it’s beginning to look a lot like f*** this!” And that’s exactly how I feel about the holidays, so of course I couldn’t help but chuckle a bit.
Walking through crowded shopping malls cringing every time I hear another dreadful Christmas song. Makes me want to scream. And seeing all those ridiculous Elves on their Shelves literally makes me want to jump off a cliff … or a shelf … or throw one off the shelf into a pit of fire until it burns so bad it’s beyond recognition.
Seriously, the Christmas (or what I like to call the X-Mess) holiday breeds nothing but greed, envy, and selfishness. Especially in our increasingly entitled children. As if their new iPhones are not enough to keep them occupied. Now they’re demanding Louis Vuitton handbags for $4,000 a pop, and if you don’t get them one, they’ll call you the worst mom ever.
Thankfully, I don’t speak from personal experience, but I do speak from what I’ve seen and heard from my friends who have brat teenagers to raise in this messed up world.
I started thinking about all of this the other night when I was at a show, doing what I do best while running sound from the booth in the back: people watching.
Teenagers love to go to concerts. I guess it’s their way of getting away from mom and dad, and if their mom and dad could only see what I see on a nightly basis. This particular concert was a festive one. A jam band playing Christmas cover tunes, along with a few originals sprinkled in here and there. (That’s really the only way to get your original music heard in this joke of a city, since most people here don’t appreciate real art. They just want to drink and dance the night away to horrible renditions of classic rock songs that everyone’s been sick of hearing for two decades … but that’s another post for another day.)
As a sound engineer I have the pleasure of witnessing our depraved youth grow up once concert at a time. And on this particular night when I was people watching at a local music venue, the sound happened to go haywire. The reaction was not what I had expected, although, knowing the youth of today, I probably should have expected it. As soon as one of the speakers blew, a young boy turned around and started cursing at me like it was my fault. My manager came over to try and diffuse the situation, and he ended up being cursed at too. The kid was yelling at both of us, demanding a refund. All the while, the band kept playing like nothing had happened. Show must go on, right? I told the kid he should take a lesson from the people he came to see play, and he said “I didn’t even come here to watch this shitty band. I came here to get away with my friends and enjoy some time out, and you can’t even get the damn sound right!”
Ugh. Entitlement. It’s a curse this generation will never be able to shake.
As I was driving home in my car that night, the “Mr. Sandman” song came on. It was a nice break from shitty holiday music, and I started to sing along.
“Mr. Soundman … bring me a dream … ”
Seriously, please bring me a dream. I need a good night’s sleep after that mess. December 26 can’t come fast enough. Thanks for letting me rant.