Sir Who?

It doesn't happen often, but when it does it at first depresses, then amazes me. This morning I stopped for coffee at Starbucks. I'm actually a Dunkin Donuts fan, but I wanted to pick up the new Paul McCartney album. I like Sir Paul and I find it interesting from a business and cultural perspective that this CD is being released through Starbucks.

I order a large (yes, large not venti or whatever they call a large coffee) black (yes, just black - no latte, mocha, half this or that) coffee and I pick up the CD. The young woman behind the counter gives me my coffee, picks up the CD and says, "This is a big deal isn't it? I didn't even know who he was until this morning."

AAAAACCCKKKK!

Not know Paul McCartney?

I held my hand to my chest and told her, "Please, please don't say that to anyone else my age today." Now I know I'm old (just ask my kids) but I find it very hard to believe that someone would not have heard of Paul McCartney - if only because of his very public divorce and his ex being on Dancing with the Stars! Doesn't she read the tabloids?

Okay, I'm probably over-reacting. But it occurred to me this is a symptom of something larger, a lack of a sense of history in our lives. New is revered. New music, new gadgets, new art, new videos on YouTube. (no one sends dumb jokes anymore - now it's links to dumb videos.)

This is not necessarily a bad thing. New discoveries have enhanced society over and over again. What's missing is perspective. New comes from old. There is a connection that can be very powerful.

I attended a Breaking Benjamin concert this past Saturday night. I go to a lot of concerts (again, just ask my kids) but I had never seen anything like this. The young (20's) crowd arrived totally drunk and got drunker. Fights averaged one per minute. Beers were thrown (they closed down the beer stands) and there seemed to be a complete disregard for others. But when the music started the crowd become one large head-nodding sing-along group. Even though the lyrics were being screamed rather than sung, this group screamed along and knew all the words. There was a connection.

That connection is no different than the Beatles' screaming fans. We knew all the words. We sang along. But I am wondering if, 40 years from now (it was the 40th anniversary of the release of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band this past weekend also) Breaking Benjamin will still be screaming? And will they have learned another word for f##k?

Thank you Sir Paul.
On to the next! Let me know your thoughts.
Catherine