Yet another way I seem to differ from the mass of humanity

I don’t really care about music.

There’s not a kind I love or hate in particular. I tend to like rock or alternative, and dislike hip-hop and pop, but really each song is its own case. The only time I tend to hate a song is if I hear it too much, or too loudly, or both. I will occasionally crank up the stereo in my car, but more often than not I’m listening to a podcast. I have an iPhone of course, but I get far more use out of it as a phone and internet device than as an iPod. I never had that many CDs in the first place, and the ones I did have I traded in for credit at a used CD/DVD store.

I see so many people that talk about music and live it and breathe it and I just can’t relate. I hate the “which album would you take with you on a desert island” question because I wouldn’t even care if I had an album on a desert island. The last time I was asked that question, I replied “The audiobook version of The Worst Case Scenario Survival Handbook.”

Out of all the dating websites I’ve used (and am using) over the years, the overwhelming majority of women want to know what kind of music you listen to, and it has to be this and this or you’re automatically disqualified. I know it’s a shorthand way to get an idea about a person, but it seems like an awful lot of importance to hang on something that, to me, seems fairly trivial. I could understand if we were talking about singers or musicians, but we’re talking about people with real passion for music, yet who barely know which end of a trumpet to blow on.

What else can I say? I don’t get it and can’t. They speak of color to one who is blind. Or sound to one who is deaf, I suppose. Metaphorically speaking of course.

There are less than an album’s worth of songs that have meant anything to me over the years. I suppose I could do a post about that if anybody’s interested.