Yesterday I took my car for an MOT. I thought I’d make good use of the waiting time, so I took a notepad with me. I dropped the car off and walked a short distance to a local pub. I would drink coffee and write. So I thought.
I found a corner of the restaurant where the intrusive, piped music was least audible. I tried writing but it was no use. It wasn’t even good music. Relentless and purile, the music seeped in, as generic and bland as the restaurant itself. Try as I might, I could not shut it out.
I moved outside and found a table beside tubs of plastic plants; the wordless hum of traffic at least would not distract me. Unfortunately my time was almost up. A couple paused outside while the man finished smoking. He dropped his cigarette-end on the floor and they entered the pub. I followed them a few minutes later, taking my empty cup back to the bar. I saw the couple. The woman sat drinking alone, the man was playing on a fruit machine.
How often we humans take something amazing and inspiring and turn it into something hideous and mediocre. So it is with music. How much good conversation or clear thinking is lost or diminished because of our desire, perceived or otherwise, to be constantly entertained?