We seem to have evolved into a society of mourned and misplaced creativity. A world where people have simply surrendered to (or been beaten into submission by) the sleepwalk of work, domesticity, mortgage repayments, junk food, junk TV, junk everything, angry ex-wives, ADHD kids and the lure of eating chicken from a bucket while emailing clients at 8pm on a weekend.
“I’m 87 years old, and I like to sing. It’s a hobby, but people think I’m crazy. You play golf—it’s ok. You like hunting—it’s ok. You sing—and you’re crazy! And I don’t do it for the money. I have a WWII pension, I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, I don’t currently have a love life…”
“Well, back in the day you could go to a ballroom dance and meet women. Today you have to go on the computer. I don’t like them computers.”
You sing - and you’re crazy! (I’ve seen this dude around Harvard Square for sure.)