Now it becomes clear

A while back in this Puerto Rican series of blogs, I wrote lamenting the apparent lack of classical singers here in the island. Today the fog has finally lifted from my brain. Every afternoon I generally go to the beach, which is right outside the door of the Water Club, have the young man charge of beach chairs place one for me in the shade of a couple of palm trees, where I sit to read, do a crossword puzzle, or just watch my fellow beach-combers. To sleep, perchance to dream.

Today a group of young men arrived as I was still sitting on the front balcony, getting ready for my beach experience, bringing with them the Mother of what we used to call Ghetto Blasters. Blasting it was, at the highest possible decibels. The music, if it can be called that, was probably Salsa, Raegae, Rap, some such. None of them is a part of my musical vocabulary or interest.  I realize that I am 'out of it' when it comes to 'Pop music. There was an incessant, possibly electronic, noisy beat going interminably, with a sort of Anglican Chant, I wouldn't call it singing, repeating the same words and monotone over and over. Hardly the Robert Shaw Chorale! Phillip Glass and John Adams meet Puerto Rico.


I have an incredibly one-track mind when it comes to reading a book. If there is music playing, no matter how annoying it may be, or how un-musical, I feel compelled to listen. Also, the volume at which this is played offends my poor ear drums; I'd like them to last another few years if possible.


I have heard the same kind of cacophony emitting from cars that drive up and down Calle Loisa, the main street a block behind the hotel. This, I guess, is the national music of Puerto Rico. I am too old and too square to understand it or enjoy it. The overall desire seems to be for repetition and volume.


The amazing thing about the young men on the beach with the Ghetto Blaster is that no one was paying any attention to it. They  were talking, tossing a ball around, and when some young women showed up after a while, no one danced or moved to the sounds. I think this is a part of the modern fear of silence in so many young people. They all simply stood there, talking, as if the sound was not deafeningly going on- and on! We see them everywhere with ear buds plugged into their ears while walking, texting, and talking on their cell phones, often getting hit by cars, since they can't hear them coming. The idea that one could sit and read, or sit and think, quietly, apparently is archaic to them.


So it's no wonder that there are no opera singers from here. It's just not in the blood. Either that, or they have all lost their hearing.

P.S. This cacophony began at about 1:00 p.m. At 5:00 p.m. I heard them begin to leave the beach. They departed up the walkway, which is right under my windows, from the beach to Calle Loisa. I could hear the loud sounds long after they reached the main street. I predict a whole generation of deaf people in the next few years! What a boon for the hearing aid companies.

P.P.S. The same thing happened again yesterday all afternoon (Saturday) and into the evening. I wonder the neighbors don't complain. Today is the super bowl so maybe they, and their Ghetto Blaster will be glued to their TVs. Or maybe they'll bring a TV to the beach. Enough, already!