I was in bed pretty early Sunday night, passing on both the Emmys and — more surprising for me — the later innings of Red Sox/Yankees. Problem with the Emmys is that usually, by the time I've gone over the nominees, I am more than sick enough of the process to shrug off the actual winners. Even a look at the winners' list this morning has the usual mix of righteous choices and head-turners, although I would have been interested in all the censoring of the show. (I can catch up. This is why there are DVRs.) Problem with the Red Sox/Yankees was just that after a weekend that included a Friday performance by Chrissie Hynde, Saturday chores, an attempt at attending a Saturday concert, a Sunday morning drive to Cleveland for an Indians game and a few more obligations, I was just wrung out. Details after the jump …

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I'm planning a longer post this weekend about Chrissie Hynde's great journey into Akron. I was lucky enough to be at her 11-song-plus-banter acoustic performance Friday night for a small crowd, and it was definitely one of those "this is a cool job" moment.

But that show, as well as tonight's big concert at the Akron Civic, has me asking this question: Why do people go to concerts and then talk through the performances? It happened Friday night, and again Saturday. Granted that Saturday's show had more of a festival atmosphere, with lots of socializing in the lobbies. Still, why would you sit — like the people behind us — and gab through act after act?

Don't people play music to be heard?