"Mood 2"

I had an interesting conversation with Son 2 the other day.  He and I were driving back -- a long trip -- from "vacation" last week, during which we had dropped Son 1 off at university.  It was, as I say, a long drive; so we were listening to a lot of music and Son 2 was in charge of the stereo.  So after we had gone through the Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd, Journey, and some others that I forget, Son 2 announced that we were now down to a choice between the last two disks: Jethro Tull or AC-DC.

Hosea:  Well I already know some Jethro Tull and I'm not sure whether I know any AC-DC, so let's go with that.

Son 2:  AC-DC? Really?

Hosea:  Why not?

Son 2:  We can if you want to, but Mom hates it.

Hosea:  OK. I have no idea if I'll hate it or not, so why don't we try it?

And so he put on the AC-DC disk. 

Now in retrospect I'll say that it's probably never going to make my top ten list: too much pointless noise, or at least noise whose point I couldn't see (unlike, say, the just-as-loud noise in the violent spots of a Beethoven symphony); too little melody that I could pick out; too few lyrics I could understand.  But for driving through miles and miles of miles and miles, it was just fine.  I guess I'd say that it's not something I would choose on my own -- at any rate, not most of the time -- but I didn't mind listening to it under the circumstances.  But the way I framed this opinion for Son 2 was slightly different.

Son 2:  [After the disk was finished.]  What did you think?

Hosea:  Let me put it like this. There's a spectrum of moods I might be in. In one mood, way over here on one extreme of the spectrum, it's something I'd probably want to listen to, something I'd seek out.

Son 2:  Like if you're really angry.

Hosea:  Exactly. Then there's a broad sweep in the middle -- including the mood I'm in right now -- where I wouldn't necessarily seek it out but I don't mind listening to it. And finally there are moods way over on the other end of the spectrum where I really couldn't listen to it. One of these is if I have to think hard about something, because it's too loud and too distracting. So if you had put it on while we were in heavy traffic, I would have asked you to turn it off. The other one is when I feel, ... well I don't really know quite what the word should be. Maybe "fragile". But it's a mood where I just can't deal with a lot of heavy input of any kind, and when I'm like that then I probably couldn't listen to it either.

Son 2:  Right. Mood 2.

Hosea:  Excuse me?

Son 2:  I figured this out a long time ago. You've got basically two settings. There's "Mood 1" where you're happy or angry or tired or any of those other normal emotions, and where you do whatever you're going to do: tell jokes if you're happy, shout if you're angry, or whatever. And I know how to deal with all of those: make jokes back to you if you're happy, stay quiet if you're angry, and so on. But then there's "Mood 2" where you're kind of ... "enh - enh - enh" [He made cowering gestures while making these noises.] ... and I have no idea what the hell to do with you then because nothing works. It's really frustrating. So most of the time I just leave you alone, and after a while you come out of it. I guess that's pretty much the only thing to do, really.

Hosea:  [Pauses to think.]  OK, got it. So you know the mood I'm talking about. Well when I'm in that mood I probably couldn't listen to AC-DC.

Anyway, I thought it was interesting that he not only recognizes the mood but has even given it a name.  Somebody once wrote that children always know their parents way better than parents know their children, because for children it is a matter of survival to learn how to get what they need while for parents it is only a matter of interest to inquire after their kids when they don't have anything else going on.  That may overstate things, but in essence it's probably right ....