What may be an old man's complaint

The month of August is over and I spent it inhabiting coffee-shops and the slopes of forested mountains. Am I trying to be a poet? Well, in fact, maybe that is what I'm trying to do.

In all honesty, it was a great month. Maybe a little lonely at times, but still a top-notch month. I don't have many complaints, but here's one of them:

Dear Coffee Shops,

Please stop playing music. Now I will freely admit that I love listening to pretty much all types of music. It's probably one of my top three favorite activities. When I come back from a long hiking trip, listening to music is one of the things I miss the most. My point is that I couldn't be happy without it.

The thing is, for me, listening to music is an all-encompassing experience, both physically and mentally. There are the words which engage the literary senses, the beat which engages the body and the physical senses, the notes which engage the abstract part of the mind. In other words, when a song is playing, I don't have much left for anything else. It's all going towards hearing it, feeling it, processing the groove, the melody, the harmony.

So, when I go to a coffee shop to read or write, I just get so damn distracted that the words start swimming off of the page and co-mingling with the lyrics in the air.

This may be a unique predilection, but I know I've talked with people who feel the same way.

If anyone knows a spot in Seattle that doesn't blast their speakers all day, please let me know and I will be there tomorrow.