I am writing this post from the “sunport” (also known as an airport) in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I’m returning from a reporting trip to interview a Catholic priest who believes he is Jewish, keeps a menorah on the altar in his parish church, refers to God as Adonai during the Mass, and for matters unrelated to his Jewish ambitions, has received an official excommunication warning from the diocese. Interesting guy, but he isn’t what this post is about.
On the way out here I had a long layover in Washington, D.C. Joining me at the gate was a group of Albuquerque high school students returning from what appeared to me to be a class trip to France. This meant my Internet time was interrupted by a screaming posse of Justin Biebers and The-Next-Female-Pop-Star-Disasters. I was bored and they weren’t too objectionable, so I actually found it rather interesting to observe them, flirting, gossiping, wrangling for attention, calling their mothers, charging their phones, working on their hair (the boys mostly), swapping secrets, and referencing TV shows.
I tuned in to one conversation, though, that disturbed me.
Two boys, of what looked to me to be the Popular Species, as far as I can still recognize it, were discussing the merits of noise-canceling earphones. The first boy was examining a pair owned by the second. They were a nice-looking piece of equipment, brand new, ruby red, battery-operated, and came with their own carrying case. These were an object that apparently both boys had given some consideration. Then the first boy brought up a pair of earphones owned by another child.
“Did you see Jonah’s earphones?” the first boy whispered (Jonah was in all likelihood nearby).
“Yeah,” the second boy replied, unimpressed.
“Exactly,” said the first whipersnapper, as if the case against the offending music-listening device had been satisfactorily closed. “And he thought it was better than [name escapes me],” he added, merely for spite.
“Really? He said that? Come ON. I mean, they’re nice, but seriously…”
“Right? I know,” the other boy said. “They were fine earphones, but not as good as these,” holding up the ruby red pair, “and not even in the same LEAGUE as [some stupid brand I didn’t catch].”
This went on for a while, as I tapped away at my email and wondered why these fucking teens weren’t staring at the tits of the girls on their trip. Young, nubile, naïve, insecure, young women surrounded these boys, begging to be asked to the prom or get tattoos or whatever it is kids do these days, and these two mooks were talking earphones?
“[Who fucking care]’s were the BOMB.”
“Yeah, I need to get me some of that.”
I decided to stare at teenage booby on their behalf, and thereby condemn myself to Hell, which is where I was going anyway as I am a bad man and a Daddy blogger, which is frowned upon in the next life.