I was sitting in a small nondescript Madison club waiting on a band to begin playing. I was sitting alone, but was surrounded by big fluffy coats and tall beer glasses and wide smiles. The crowd was a mass of excitement and filled the room with that delicious low-frequency hum generated only by a thousand separate conversations rattling about, bumping into one another.
Time went on as I casually surveyed the strangers’ faces; reading their lips and trying to know them. As I panned, I caught but one familiar face in the crowd. It was Scott Walker. He also sat alone, looking surprisingly young, pensive and anxious.
Slowly up from the depths of the humming crowd grew a small “hissing” sound. One person after another turned his or her attention from their own conversation to lend their voice to the expanding “hiss“…
…and soon everyone in the crowd was hissing at poor, defenseless, Scott Walker.
Realizing he was clearly outnumbered and most-definitely unwanted, he stumbled up from his chair – expressing sorrow and rejection – turned, and walked out the door; alone, into a cold, dark night. I actually felt sad for the man.
Within seconds the crowd returned to it’s previous state of bliss – a humming gelatinous blob of joy and warm fellowship. The music began and we were all happy again.