Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

During the Sermon on Sunday, our pastor spoke about Handel's Messiah, and the beauty of not only the music, but of the word as well. We've listened to it before, but I don't think in it's entirity, so I was inspired to go out and find a copy.

So into HMV I went yesterday. I approached one of the staff, and asked "Do you have a copy of Handel's Messiah?". She gave me the proverbial Chicken Look. "Let's see..." she says, and walks over to the trusty computer to look it up. "OK, how do you spell that?". "H - A - N - D - E - L, " I say. "Not H-A-N-D-L-E?" she says. "No," I say.

"Ok," she says, "and what was his last name?"

I am so saddened by today's youth.

I was subsequently in another store where I decided to describe this experience to that staff, who I presumed would share my disgust. After I tell the tale, they too are giving me Chicken Looks. "You don't know who Handel is, do you?" I inquired. Silence. "He was a composer in the 1700s," I say.

"Oh, no wonder I've never heard of him" is the reply. I hang my head and leave.