The incessant babbling of the young.

I was standing in line for an autograph from Marié Digby (yay! she was awesome!). Directly in front of me were two young girls, roughly 13 to 14 years old. I could tell because they had what I assumed would turn out to be boobs in a few years' time, even though they dressed much older and sluttier.

I spent about 40 minutes waiting in the line, half of that was spent in total agony. This was because I was forced to listen to the brain-dead chatter between those two. There were somewhat loud and I could not come up with any bright ideas at the time to shut them out without leaving the line.

For 20 minutes I listened to who was 'dating' who, which teacher was a 'hater' and why random girl X was such a slut for going out with whoever crossed paths with her. There was also an enlightening discussion on why getting a barely-passing grade was more than enough for most subjects. There was probably more to this but I've always had a poor short-term memory span and this one time I am grateful for it.

After a while I realised that I was carrying my laptop with me. It took me a few minutes, working feverishly on the stupid touchpad and balancing the weight of it on one forearm, but I eventually got the machine to completely rip Marié Digby's album on the spot(which I had purchased an hour before for her to autograph) and then...beautiful music and emotive, sensitive lyrics piping through my ears via earphones. Blocking out bullshit. Excellent.

This episode has given me a bit to think about, though. Does every age group find the topics that interest those younger than them to be trivial, inconsequential and immature? Do we all listen to such talk and smirk privately to ourselves, thinking,"Heh. Mere children. They have no idea what's in store for them later." or "My gods, why are they so interested in stuff that doesn't really matter anyway?"

The 13 year-old dismisses his 5 year-old brother's fascination with Lego bricks as childish. The 19 year-old scoffs at her younger sister's experimental forays with the opposite gender as clumsy and embarassing. The 25 year-old rolls his eyes and groans inwardly when he listens to 2 teenagers going on and on about the "dramatic events" going on in high school. The 35 year-old smiles indulgently and shakes his head when the 24 year-old dithers about whether or not to finally move out of his parents' house, wanting the freedom and independence but worrying about self-sufficiency.

Perhaps each of us forgets that were also once that age, once upon a time. Or maybe I'm just the stereotypical anti-social who can't be buggered about other people and their concerns.