I was off to Key West, Fla., for a few days this week to go sailing as a guest of Mount Gay rum, which HAVE I MENTIONED I ENJOY VERY MUCH?
(Actually, I have endorsed it on more thanone occasion. So I don’t really feel bad about accepting a junket from Mount Gay. It’s only payola if you don’t like the product – right?)
Key West is a pretty cool place: soaked in sunshine, littered with Ernest Hemingway memorabilia and populated with crusty-looking sun-dried barflies who probably don’t give the first shit about anything. I guess the most laid-back/burnt out Americans end up at the bottom of the country like so many played-out pinballs. One day soon I will write more about Key West, Florida’s spic-and-span, SpongeBob SquarePants-esque old-timer’s answer to New Orleans.
One of my favourite annual traditions in the National Post‘s Arts & Life universe is the end-of-year Cultural Lessons. They’re essays in which the writers meditate on what they learned from popular (and I guess not popular) culture over the year. I suppose it’s our chance to tell you what we really think.
Anyway, published Tuesday, here’s my one and only for 2011, about how fortysomethings made a lot of the year’s interesting music — meanwhile, the young folk not so much.
Illustration of an aged-looking PJ Harvey and Jay-Z by the talented, nice-smelling Steve Murray.