Arriving home after a concert in the Siberian city of Novosibirsk, 27-year-old Grisha heads straight for the telephone.
"Mama? It's me. I just walked in the door two minutes ago. I know, I know. I had some things to do after work, and then I went to a concert."
Grisha pauses and rolls his eyes toward the ceiling.
"Well, I can't help it if you worry. I didn't have time to call you."
"I am not a child," he sighs into the phone. "I have my own life."