The Sum of Experience

There was a writer from a professional background who went to bull fights and professional wrestling in evening wear.  He clapped politely from time to time.  When the most deeply pleased, an occasional slight expression would fleet across his face.  The regular attendees came to love having him there as kind of a mascot or as a touch of class and took him in.  One day one asked him why he just didn’t show up to hoot and holler like everybody else.

He explained he was a writer who felt like he needed to have the sum of human experience.  He wanted his stuff to cut across class lines and get to what was only human.  Slumming wasn’t enough to broaden his work–he needed to actively bring professional class and working class experiences together into one.

He also went to classical concerts and stomped and cheered and painted his face.  He usually rooted for the brass.  He eventually had to put on his own concerts so he wouldn’t get kicked out.

I don’t know if he discovered any great insights this way.  But he did touch off a trend.  He seemed to be having so much fun, folks started putting together wrestling events where everybody went swanky and sipped wine and the wrestlers went through their moves ritually like some kind of Japanese art form and everyone involved felt immensely satisfied with themselves.  And classical music concerts full of beer drinking rowdies hollering the whole time.