The best of times and the worst of times

Ok I know that I am getting old and that my views of popular culture are tarnished by the patina of time, but I listen to new music and sometimes despair.  Chanting obscenities or gibberish to a thumping beat may be what kids are presented with and perhaps it is the inevitable product of an evolutionary process that has produced a generation, of which many of whom seem to have lost a sense of direction.

The reason for the Oxford trip the other night was to attend a concert performed by  one of our best symphony orchestras. The program included works by Chopin, Glinka and Tchaikowski.  I haven't been to such a concert for some considerable time and it was a joy to experience wonderful music performed by real musicians, and what crossed my mind was that this is one of the pinnacles of man's achievements. Composers, rightly, are given most of the credit for the works that they write, and yet, without the dedicated professional musicians that interpret those writings, their efforts are nothing to most people, but scribblings on a page.  In order for great music to be delivered to us mere nobodies, there has to be a convergence of some of the finest minds with talents that are rare and precious. They, together, become one with the mind of the originator and bring to life, music that is priceless.

There have been many bands of musicians of many genres that have achieved wonderful things, producing music that has had the power to move and thrill audiences. Some bands evolved and grew to almost orchestral proportions, inspiring an anti - music trend called punk. Punk bands took music back from the dizzy heights and ran it screaming and kicking into the gutter. Punk, like the banal Rap of today was purely visceral, and lacked any intellectual thread. Punk was a protest against quality and against talent and so today we have a music industry that is on its knees, for probably the same sort of reason. Boy and girl bands abound and any of the scarce real musicians are forced along a pathway that renders their own work pretty much subsumed into the musak promoted by the get rich quick.

I was heartened by the fact that there were many young musicians in the orchestra and yet the program notes suggest that most of them come from eastern Europe.

Celebrity status

One thing that I loathe and detest more than anything else is reality TV, and the ongoing trend of bringing more and more of the so called real world into all of our lives through the TV screen.  The programs that I have been unfortunate enough to see, seem to focus on the poorer sections of society, placing people, albeit with their consent, under a microscope so that the rest of us can mock or even pity  them.

It seems from the little that I have seen, that the focus of much reality TV seems to be on the lack of education, that so many people seem proud of.  It appears that failing at school is always the fault of someone else.   I recently watched a programme that got together disparate people and got them to cook dinner for each other. These were professional people, and the only reason for watching was that a relative was involved.  It is an appalling program, clearly edited to show people up in the worst possible light, with a patronising over commentary.  Many people seek fame, maybe more so than fortune. To be on the TV allows one celebrity status, at least in their own mind, but why oh why do we have to be subjected to it more and more?

Too many people

Every now and then I leave the shelter and security of my little space and venture into the big bad world. Sometimes it is through necessity and rarely through choice. Visiting old friends is worth the effort and the weekend was fun, despite the tedious drive west.

On friday night we went to the Sheldonian Theatre in Oxford for a sublime concert by the Birmingham Symphony Orchestra. That however is not what I want to talk about.

The evening began with a drink in a pub very close to the venue. It was raining hard and the pub seemed inviting with plenty of time before the concert began.  It was a very small pub, dark and very full. There was only standing room near to the bar and even that was very limited.  The bar itself was rather like a corridor and for the first time that I can recall, I began to feel very claustrophobic. I was being jostled from all directions and it was impossible to move to a space. I hated the feeling and could not wait to get out.  No-one else seemed bothered and so I had no choice but to tolerate the situation. I do seem to be able to engage in a sort of self hypnosis that enables me to detach from unpleasant situations such as the dentist's chair, and that seemed to work. Once outside I was fine and we joined the queue to get into the concert hall.

The Sheldonian is a wonderful building, more or less circular and quite austere in terms of seating comfort. There are no numbered seats, in fact there are no proper seats at all; it has a series of large steps that serve as seats. We got in fairly early and chose seats at the front of the balcony with a good view over the orchestra. All was fine, if Spartan for a while but as the performance time grew closer, the place filled to capacity and then beyond. More and more people squeezed in and had to sit anywhere that they could. My space got smaller and smaller and soon I had people sitting on my feet and others with their knees in my back. My levels of anxiety were as high as I can remember them ever being, and had it been possible to escape easily I think I would have done, however the programme began and there was no choice other than to sit very still, in an uncomfortable posture and try to focus on the music.  By the time of the interval, those behind had clearly had enough and left, and so the second half of the concert was a very different experience and by the end I could relax. I was still more than glad to get out into the rain however and even the crowded pavements seemed to offer relief.

I seem to be losing my ability to be with other people. There was a time when crowds did not bother me, but now they do and I know that I will try very hard to avoid putting myself through that again. Having said that, next month we have tickets for the O2 and that will involve a much bigger crowd than were at the Sheldonian on friday. I look forward to that with some trepidation.

Here we go again

Another year and as yet nothing to write about. I suppose that in the scheme of things, that last year was an eventful one and i hope that 2013 will be somewhat less so.
Life in Kent seems to have settled into some sort of pattern and I am enjoying regular contact with the grandchildren. It is alarming that in a couple of months, Oscar will be going to school. It will only be on a part time basis, but even so it will be a major step for him and his parents.  He is growing up so very quickly and continues to make me laugh. Only the other day, we were walking in the woods and he stood to attention, saluted and said "Yes Sir Grandad". I suppose that he picked it up from Toy Story, which seems to be one of his obsessions, along with diggers, dinosaurs and space rockets.
Matilda is 6 weeks old and has little conversation, but very expressive eyes. She is an unknown quantity as yet but a very placid and co-operative young lady so far.
I'd like to make some resolutions for the new year but I won't, largely because I never really keep them and don't see the point.  There are many ways in which I could improve myself but that would require some sort of motivation, and that is sadly lacking.
Even vowing to write more regularly would be futile; I write only when the mood takes me, and even then it is getting harder and harder to find things to write about.  Oh I can rant about all sorts of things, but nobody is interested in my opinions, quite understandably, and no doubt there will be a rant from time to time.
I will wish anyone who reads this a happy new year, even if it is late in coming.