In the last week, I've gotten a TV and audio set up for the rectory; and today, the Internet access point was installed; so now, I've got Pandora on my TV, and I'm listening to Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles, and other good stuff.
Meanwhile, I'm surfing the Internet, and I see this headline on Instapundit: Stop Dressing Like A Slob When Traveling. And I remember: people used to dress up to fly. And for church. And heck, they used to dress nicely for baseball games!
Don't believe it? Go find the movie, "Pride of the Yankees," or the "Babe Ruth Story," Heck, any movie from before 1960: you'll see that people dressed up better for everything.
Earlier this week, I had a funeral. And a young man was there, with a buttoned shirt -- open -- showing his tshirt. At a funeral! He couldn't at least button his shirt? Are you kidding me? At a funeral?
What's happened to our culture?
Whether it's movies, music, TV, or theater...
(Did you know there's a show on Broadway called "Naked Boys Singing?" (insert sound of my head shaking). How do I know? It showed up in some other news item I was reading. I couldn't believe it, but sure enough, it's real.)
As I was saying...wherever you look, can you find any example where our culture is better, more refined, more beautiful, than, say, in 1960? 1970?
I know what you're thinking: oh, that is what happens when you pass a certain age; you start getting grumpy about the current stuff, and then before you know it, you're watching Lawrence Welk re-runs.
OK, could be. So if you're reading this, and you're under 30, please, please post a comment here. Do you think our current culture beats what my parents had? (FYI, I was born in 1962; my experience of contemporaneous culture has been a steady downward trend.) Do you think the culture you grew up with is something better than I do? Please let us know.
Do I sound angry? I'm not angry. I'm listening to Louis Armstrong, Dean Martin and Ella Fitzgerald. I have a great inheritance that is available to me. I think of the classical education I received, and the doors that opened for me. All that is mine, and it's not endangered...for me.
But I'm sad. I'm sad to think of people who dress like slobs at the funerals of someone they love, not because they are contemptuous, but because they simply don't know any better. They speak in fragments, peppered with vulgarities and obscenities for the same reason -- because they don't know any better. They gape at cathedrals, and wonder what they are; they see a Latin inscription, and just stare. They watch an American movie from the 1940s, and wonder, what world is that?