My mom is, and always has been, my concert buddy. We're really the only two in our family who makes a habit of subscribing to the Broadway series in Indy; attending our coffee pops and classical performances here with the Indianapolis Symphony; and going nuts for any live musical performance when we occasionally visit the Big Apple.
And the ritual is the same: we nestle into our seats, read the program notes, and right before curtain, I lean over and say to mom: "Did you remember to turn off your phone?" When mom replies "yes," I say..."are you *sure*?"
Much is being made of the poor soul who was publicly condemned by New York Philharmonic Music Director Alan Gilbert and the audience for letting his cell phone ring and ring during Mahler's Ninth.
I don't call him a "poor soul" because I'm all that sympathetic (I texted my mom this morning and said "off with his head!"), but c'mon, haven't we all been there, at some point in our lives?
I've always remembered to turn off my cell phone during musical performances. But I was that guy at a PR conference a few years ago. I could've sworn I had turned my cell off. But during one of the sessions, it started ringing in my purse. The presenter abruptly stopped his Powerpoint, and the hundreds of participants in the room threw virtual daggers at me. I froze, turned crimson, grabbed my purse and skedaddled.
I needed a buddy in that situation. Someone to say, "But are you *sure* you turned it off?"
The buddy system is terrific. It helps people walk safely to their cars. It keeps my Kindergartner in line when she's walking down the hall with her classmates. My fourth grader has a reading buddy -- they read the same book and encourage each other to stay focused. At the ISO, we have a "duet" program: new employees are paired up with veterans so that there's a network of support.
Because of this unfortunate situation in Avery Fisher Hall, I fear a debate coming on about whether or not cell phones should be allowed in concert halls. I hope not. We don't need any more policies, laws, bans and whatnot. We need buddies. We need buddies giving us the elbow and saying "but are you *sure* it's turned off? Look again!" I bet on a few of those occasions, you'll discover that, indeed, your cell phone is NOT off. And you'll thank your buddy. We ALL will thank your buddy.
That knucklehead in Avery Fisher Hall needed a buddy. My mom needs a buddy. Heck, I need a buddy. Let's look out for one another. And shh...the performance is about to start.
P.S.: Just for fun, tell me what moment in music -- any music -- you would NEVER want interrupted by a cell phone ring...you know, what's your record-scratching moment? For me, it would be interrupting Chopin's Piano Concerto No. 2, second movement, when the basses play these precious five notes. If your cell phone goes off during this, it's off with your head!
And the ritual is the same: we nestle into our seats, read the program notes, and right before curtain, I lean over and say to mom: "Did you remember to turn off your phone?" When mom replies "yes," I say..."are you *sure*?"
Much is being made of the poor soul who was publicly condemned by New York Philharmonic Music Director Alan Gilbert and the audience for letting his cell phone ring and ring during Mahler's Ninth.
I don't call him a "poor soul" because I'm all that sympathetic (I texted my mom this morning and said "off with his head!"), but c'mon, haven't we all been there, at some point in our lives?
I've always remembered to turn off my cell phone during musical performances. But I was that guy at a PR conference a few years ago. I could've sworn I had turned my cell off. But during one of the sessions, it started ringing in my purse. The presenter abruptly stopped his Powerpoint, and the hundreds of participants in the room threw virtual daggers at me. I froze, turned crimson, grabbed my purse and skedaddled.
I needed a buddy in that situation. Someone to say, "But are you *sure* you turned it off?"
The buddy system is terrific. It helps people walk safely to their cars. It keeps my Kindergartner in line when she's walking down the hall with her classmates. My fourth grader has a reading buddy -- they read the same book and encourage each other to stay focused. At the ISO, we have a "duet" program: new employees are paired up with veterans so that there's a network of support.
Because of this unfortunate situation in Avery Fisher Hall, I fear a debate coming on about whether or not cell phones should be allowed in concert halls. I hope not. We don't need any more policies, laws, bans and whatnot. We need buddies. We need buddies giving us the elbow and saying "but are you *sure* it's turned off? Look again!" I bet on a few of those occasions, you'll discover that, indeed, your cell phone is NOT off. And you'll thank your buddy. We ALL will thank your buddy.
That knucklehead in Avery Fisher Hall needed a buddy. My mom needs a buddy. Heck, I need a buddy. Let's look out for one another. And shh...the performance is about to start.
P.S.: Just for fun, tell me what moment in music -- any music -- you would NEVER want interrupted by a cell phone ring...you know, what's your record-scratching moment? For me, it would be interrupting Chopin's Piano Concerto No. 2, second movement, when the basses play these precious five notes. If your cell phone goes off during this, it's off with your head!
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