One of the charms of living in the city is to eat outside at sidewalk tables. My delight with this comes from growing up in a rural setting where I could only dream of such times, and even though I am 51 it still just is a most relaxing way to eat and enjoy the evening.
So as James and I were seated for a late evening snack on Williamson Street, near a corner with a stoplight, one of those things happened that I consider rude and just another sign that things are going in the wrong direction with some in our society.
Pulled up to the stop light was a large SUV type vehicle with the windows half-down on a truly wonderful evening with light breezes and temperatures hovering near 70 degrees. A type of night that we waited for many months to arrive in Madison.
There was music playing loudly so that every word could be heard.
Most of it did not register as I was tuning it out until it repeated the phrase about F…… Y… As in the act of ……
I turned to the woman in her 20’s that was cleaning up a table adjacent to ours and asked “Did I just hear that?’
She crunched her mouth up, shook her head affirmatively, and lowered her eyes.
Now I obviously question the quality of people who record such ‘stuff’ and call it music, and simply wonder who would produce or distribute it.
But as we walked tonight I also started to wonder about the type of person who would not only buy it, but play it in the fashion that he did.
If this had been a 19 year-old-guy it might all be passed off as showing off or someone still needing to grow up. But the man in the SUV was I estimate in his early 30’s and seemed shameless about the trash he was not only listening to, but spilling out onto the streets for others to be forced to hear.
Since this place we were seated at serves awesome ice-cream it goes without saying that parents take kids there, and everyone loves an outside seat if one is to be had.
I know this will be passed off by some that I am a grouchy old man who probably yells ‘get off my grass’ at passersby. But nothing could be further from the truth. I am really quite friendly, open-minded, and reasonable.
But I see more and more the fringes of society acting without regard for anyone else in ways that are embarrassing, low-brow, unseemly, and obviously without any sense of how one ought to behave in normal society. Too often instead of a harsh rebuke others just let such behavior slide and pretend the newest lowest common denominator is now to be expected and accepted.
I just can not do that.
And I do not think others should either.
Debasing women and using profanity for the sake of being crude and rude is just not what anyone wants to hear.
CAFFEINATED POLITICS 
Your well-written post (once again) prompted me to write a response. Like you, my husband and I have encountered folks who enjoy playing vulgarity-laced music at a volume that defies common sense.
As someone who has a few years on you, I appreciate many different genres of music — including music styles that aren’t necessarily associated with someone my age. That includes music produced by current artists. But there isn’t ANY style of music I like to hear blasting out of someone’s vehicle at a level that is as loud as an emergency vehicle’s siren — music so loud that it rattles the closed windows of my car.
As a former reporter, I’ve been on the front lines of fighting for the rights listed in the First Amendment of the U.S Bill of Rights. On occasion, I’ve found myself using vulgarities and profane language. (Yes, I’m guilty of an occasional potty mouth.) What I DON’T do is yell it at the top of my voice so others can hear me. As someone whose IQ exceeds her shoe size, I understand that most (maybe nearly all?) people around me don’t necessarily want to hear “that kind of language.” What purpose does the kind of immature and indiscriminate “broadcasting” of music containing profane and vulgar language accomplish, beyond offending people?
I like all styles of music, but I would be ashamed to subject others to “my songs” without first determining that others actually WANTED to hear my tunes. (I’ve sometimes wished I had big speakers on my humble car so I could blast out the tunes of Jimmy Sturr or Tommy Dorsey or Jim and Jesse in response to vulgarity-laced music.)
How selfish and self-absorbed can anyone get?
Like you, my husband and I have been subjected to the very situation you describe more times than I care to recall. Our closed car windows have rattled. My husband’s service dog has uttered a groan when we’ve encountered such folks. We’ve also felt unsafe when we’ve parked at a gas station or store and someone blasting the vulgar hits pulls in. Our only option is to make sure our car doors are locked and to do whatever we can to avoid personal contact. These days, we wouldn’t consider walking over to the Loud Music Lover and ask them to turn the noise down for fear that we would be hurt — even though playing music like that violates most community ordinances.
The ONLY thing we need to do is figure out what can be done to stop such privacy-violating silliness as described in this posting.