After a certain time in your life you realize you don’t really need anything. You’ve got all the pots and pans and art and bookshelves you need. Sure, more can be good but sometimes enough is enough. This is not a problem of any sort.
Until you come to a special occasion and someone asks what to get you. The true answer is socks but no one actually wants to be the one who bought you socks. There are big ticket items you could use (for example I could really use a jaguar f-type v8),but you have all the medium range gift type stuff already. If you want an album you buy the album, or book, or jacket, whatever. The way my wife and I have solved this dilemma is by giving each other tickets to things like bands and plays and such. This has been excellent.
But an odd thing keeps happening. Someone keeps thanking me for coming. As if it’s a slog that shows I have stamina and high moral character. For being entertained. This irritates me on one level due to the overwhelming pretentiousness usually spouted by the thankers (oh what would we artists do without you who support us? How can we lead and transform society? Art is the beat of blah blah blah ). Though the pretentious twat waffles aren’t usually the actual but the amateur artist that introduces the actual.
The other level is of flummoxment. I paid money for entertainment. You entertained me. Deal met. We good. No need to thank me. The only way I’d expect thanks is if it was an amateur thing and I took a leap of faith with no idea if I’d be rewarded. Even still, if you suck no amount of thanks will make up for that and if you’re good why would you thank me?
There may be a deeper problem than a question of manners; what has theater and music done to itself to make them grateful for an audience? Before we started attending I avoided it because of a few factors. One is a lot of bands sucks live. Two is I was worried about lectures ( sitting through a few diatribes before shows cured me for a long time of a desire to go see shows). But mainly (in regards to plays) I was worried they had no desire to entertain me. As if they really should have thanked me for attending.
Like I should indulge them and applaud. And pay my money. And be unentertained. And pretend to like it. Because the arts is a societal good.
No matter if it’s actually any good.