Yesterday I went to see a friend of mine perform in “Romeo and Juliet” at the local theater. It was pretty good for a small theater; some of the actors (my friend included) were actually very good.

It was good to get out, and very good to hear Shakespeare again. That’s one of the things I miss most about being out of school – the great level of culture I was exposed to on a daily basis during my studies. I think when I start making more money, I’d like to be a patron of the arts. You know, buy season tickets to the local theater, go to orchestras, stuff like that. Things you have to wear a suit and tie to go to.

Although I didn’t wear a suit and tie to the play, I did wear a tie and a nice sweater. That’s one of the things I miss about my church – there’s no opportunity to get dressed up. I mean, really “dressed up.” I appreciate the come-as-you-are atmosphere, but if I wore a suit, I’d seriously stick out. I’m not complaining so much about my church (I wouldn’t change it for the world), but that my suit hasn’t been worn in months, and it’s almost too warm to wear it now. At “cultural events,” though, I could wear my suit with pride. I could sit down in a seat, close my eyes, and silently savor the music, without having some cheerleader shouting, “Put your hands together, Atlanta!”

I’ve had my car radio station set to the jazz station here in Atlanta, and I like to listen to it driving home. The mellow melodies remind me that it doesn’t matter how bad the traffic is; I’m going home, and that’s what’s important. Yesterday I switched it over to a “modern rock” station, hoping to get traffic information. I discovered that I did not enjoy the music as much as I thought I would, and the commercials were positively intolerable.

I went to a “Christian rock” concert once when I was in junior high. I wound up sitting in the corner reading a book. It was, in fact, a book I had borrowed from another nerd I had just met. We weren’t enjoying the concert as much as our youth ministers said we would. See, the stereotypical teenager has the appellations “wild,” “crazy,” and “extreme” tattooed to himself or herself (metaphorically, usually, but sometimes literally). What youth ministers often don’t realize is that the wretched “tyranny of the majority” (as J. S. Mill called it) keeps people like us hiding out in corners until we can find our way to a place of acceptance, where our tastes are not “oddball” or “weird,” nor even “cultured” and “refined” (which is the route of snobbery), but rather “valuable” and “appreciated.” Now that I’m out of school, a large city like Atlanta is the next best thing.