NQC 10: NQC burnout?
From across the way, IrishLad, our favorite reader from Ireland, offers a diagnosis in response to my response to last night:
I think what happens when you go to the NQC year after year (i nearly said KFC there, some weird sort of Freudian slip to do with the food stands no doubt) one suffers from the “law of diminishing returns”. In other words your experience becomes increasing diluted with every return visit until a numbness of the senses sets in and a cynical overly critical attitude ensues rendering one with a “seen that done that wore the tee-shirt” mindset. Indeed after 20 odd years the novelty well and truly wears off,well perhaps not for the Joyful Noisers. I think i’ll start a new group called the Joyless Noisome.
There’s undoubtedly truth to this. And depending on my mood and what I hear tonight today, I may well just turn things over to ya’ll and let the mass mind go where it well.
At the same time, other readers echo a version of my own reaction. About halfway through last night’s evening concerts, this message popped in from a songwriter friend who has always seemed to me a model of the kind of longsuffering generosity of spirit I’m so often accused of not possessing:
I’m so bummed about the amount of suckage I’ve heard on the radio [streaming live feed]. Makes me wonder about life choices, really.
I had lunch yesterday with another southern gospel friend of mine who has been around since the age of the 8-track, and he told me he drove up to Freedom Hall Thursday, started circling for a parking spot, and just looped back around and drove out and away. “There’s nothing I can see or hear that would surprise me.”
Obviously I get what he’s saying (which is, essentially, what IrishLad is saying), and I guess it’s not impossible that I’ve hit that wall too. And yet I haven’t entirely lost the desire to be taken off guard by something, with apologies to the McKameys, altogether lovely.
Ah, NQC. I just can’t quit you.Email this Post