A few more little-known facts

I tend to accept the things I can’t change, keeping quiet about some things and otherwise choosing my battles carefully. But I can tell I’m turning into my grandfather. Witness:
Other than in movie theatres, it is foreign to me to require food and drink just to sit through a performance in a theatre. In my youth and college days it was unheard of to allow food and drink into, say, an opera or even a musical. And certainly not during church. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to all the coffee thermoses now in church, candy bars at orchestra concerts, and wine glasses at virtually everything. And when one considers the price markup of concessions at all theatres, then the ‘need’ for a plastic cup of wine appears to be more an addiction or nervous habit than anything else. I feel sorry-not-sorry for people when they learn they are not allowed to bring their salads and pinot grigio picnics into our student concerts at the university.
I shake my head over our addiction to noise: omnipresent earbuds, days-long playlists, resonant clubby restaurants, screaming children, Broadway live sound, souped-up motorcycle and car stereos, fireworks, dance clubs, and souped-up cars missing their mufflers. Seriously, are we really that afraid of our own thoughts anymore? Of course, I myself don’t seem to mind dozens of ranks of organ pipes sounding within striking distance; so there’s that.
I miss church weddings, even if I don’t miss playing for them. I have reached my limit for remote, expensive wedding venues that used to be hay barns.
I miss tuxedos on performers.
I miss white tie.
I miss matching socks.
I miss dress socks.
I miss any socks with suits.
I miss suit coats that cover the butt and actually button around the belly.
I miss dress shoes.
I still don’t like blond shoes with dark suits.
I don’t like that an untucked button-down with no blazer is now called ‘business casual,’ and a standard suit with tie is now called ‘formal.’ I suppose that means I’ll be considered a freak or an extra-terrestrial if I ever wear white tie or even black tie again, or if I tuck in my button-down and wear a belt with it.
I don’t miss men’s pants pulled up to the chest, nor neckties that barely make it past the sternum.
Speaking of ties, I miss symmetrical knots.
And I am completely at a loss to explain the proliferation of pajamas for public attire. Seriously, people, what happened?
In other news, I still believe in using hard-copy scores whenever possible. I suppose I would read from the original manuscript, if I could.
And I still believe in showing up early and in eating afterward with whoever wants to go and in talking about music and men’s ‘fashion’ and the grandfather I have apparently become.

