Underlying rhythms.

At 9am I had to play as a ringer in a little kid's orchestra concert in the prep division at my college. The children were absolutely adorable. I don't think I've ever seen musicians look so poised and confident and virtuosic, yet at the same time play completely out of tune. It's normal for their age, I know. It's sad to think that someday they'll grow up to be my age, and have lost their innocence and faith in humanity completely. Along with the will to practice their instruments.

On the commuter train today (I had to head out of the city) there was a big commotion with some drunken passengers. I ran into a girl from my high school and she told me that before I boarded the train, there had been a fight between these two angry drunks, and one cut the other one with a switchblade or something to that effect. So before they allowed myself and others to board, the police had to inspect the train with a leashed German shepherd dog to make sure that everybody was behaving properly.

So the whole time I'm riding on the train, trying to read, and there are these drunk fucking teenagers sitting behind me cursing to the high heavens and picking fights with one another. At one point a man who was sitting a few seats away from me got up, walked toward the group of teenagers, and told them he was a cop and they needed to shut up. And right on cue, in stumbles the drunkest man I've ever seen in a public place, trying to keep himself as composed as possible before stumbling and falling into an empty seat.

For anyone out there who thinks getting plastered and acting like jackasses on St. Patrick's Day is truly representative of the spirit of the Irish, you can go fuck yourselves because you're a bunch of morons. I think St. Patrick's Day should be celebrating the true essence of being Irish: let the guilt Catholicism has imposed completely overwhelm you, and then spend all day at church. I'm pretty sure that's what my ancestors did.