Ouch!

Dear Mr. P.C.:

Should jazz musicians marry one another?

—J.S.

Dear JS:

Here's something that may surprise you: Tone deafness is a dominant gene, which means the ability to carry a tune is recessive. Since most jazz artists—when forced to—can carry a tune, the ability to play jazz is probably also recessive.

Genetics tells us that if jazz musicianship is recessive, two jazz musicians who marry and procreate have a much higher than normal risk of creating a new jazz musician. Apart from legitimate concerns about adding to the overpopulation of jazz players, it raises this very real question: Who, exactly, will support the parents?

Dear Mr. P. C.:

I am convinced that jazz, when played by mediocre musicians, is the worst possible music genre to listen to compared to any other music genre played at the same low level. Do you agree, and if so can you explain the reason? Thanks.

—Danny

Dear Danny:

True, mediocre jazz is the hardest mediocre music to listen to, but jazz audiences never really listen anyway. That's the key to mediocre jazz's pervasiveness; if the audience members actually paid attention they'd defect to other, less offensive mediocre music.

On the positive side, this shows that even among its lesser artists jazz is the most uncompromising musical form; they approach mediocrity with a tireless work ethic and a relentless drive for perfection.

Dear Mr. P.C.:

It has come to my attention that the suck quotient of most band boils down to an old axiom: "The quality of the music is inversely proportional to the amount of equipment the band shows up to the gig with." It's gotten to the point where if I see a huge band truck parked out front, I won't even set foot in the club. Is there something to this or am I just experiencing equipment envy?

—Higgybear

Dear Higgybear:

You know that bodies absorb sound, right? That means in a loud room, each audience member is creating a better listening experience for all the others.

The loud music audience represents the best in mankind, a selfless coming together of strangers to create a better world for all. But you want the opposite—a quiet room, where you and a few fellow elitists can separately suffer, in darkness, what little sound there is. I'll let you figure it out.

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