I could be snotty, too, when talking about certain kinds of musicians, the ones on stage who were on stage performing and getting gigs because of their connections to show business and endless music lessons and stage parents and agents and managers and career management, and who once up there really couldn't do anything. I'd dismiss them cruelly, with the word "Wunderkind" (straight out of Carson McCullers), and I wouldn't even have to say it aloud or write it down. I could be cruel. And I could be contemptuous.
("They think they're good here," I'd think to myself. "Let's see how they play in Cincinnati.")