The sounds of -- noise

I sit here at my laptop on this dull and rainy Wednesday morning in November and I write this blog – in lieu of a significant feature piece I am supposed to be writing, and will get to later, I promise – and I ‘listen’ to the world around me. It’s noisy. There is always noise. There is never, it seems, utter silence.

The closest I’ve come to utter silence in recent months was when we were staying in a little cottage by a little stream in highly isolated Fort Klamath, Oregon in September. I lay in bed and marvelled at how the place was so silent. No traffic noise, no people noise, the odd bleating cow, since this was cattle country, but that wasn’t disruptive. However, it was a full-moon night, and suddenly, slicing the night, was a canine wailing. Wolves? Coyotes? One or the other. Actually, it was chillingly cool. Cool, because it wasn’t a human-engineered noise. It was nature in the raw primordial.

Back to my current time and space. What I hear is the fridge in the kitchen, the quiet hum of my laptop, and an irritating buzzing by the telephone answering machine sitting nearby. On the street there is a lot of traffic noise at this time of day. It should be a quiet suburban street, but unfortunately it connects to two major thoroughfares, so everybody uses it as a rat-run. This is to my exasperation, despite the fact I use it for the same thing myself.

There is much to-do these days about various forms of pollution, such as the obvious atmospheric variety, as well as ‘light’ pollution and, in the case of my rant today, ‘noise’ pollution. I think ubiquitous noise gets me down more than any of the other kinds. I find I’ve become more sensitized to the jarring effects of any uninvited noise as time has gone on, and it pisses me off because I can do nothing about most of it.

I try to keep the noise around me at a minimal level, especially when I am working, or procrastinating from working (my two main activities). So, during the day there is absolutely no TV on, no radio, no CDs. Nothing. I love music and will often play it in the evenings, and in my car. But not in the house. Not during the day.

Sometimes, however, you cannot escape it. In my town some bonehead in city hall once decided that music should follow us wherever we go. Ubiquitous sounds of stuff I do not want to hear permeate the streetcorner when I’m waiting for a light to change. They’ve already started playing %$#%$^ ‘seasonal’ (can’t say Christmas any longer for the sake of the sensitivities of non-Christians; as if Christmas in its current incarnation had anything whatsoever to do with Christianity) music. Someday I’m going to find that %$#@* Little Drummer Boy and take him far out in the forest and leave him there for those aforementioned wolves to deal with.

When noise is especially galling for me is at night, when I am trying to sleep. Then, I want to hear nothing. Absolutely nothing. It’s a time for rest for me at all levels.

My diatribe has nothing to do with sounds, per se. There are sounds I like thoroughly. The sounds of beautiful music (under my control) invariably enchant; the sounds of children’s laughter, the purring of a cat, the crackle of a fireplace, the babbling of a stream, the roar of the surf, the clickety-clack of a train, the rumble of a big (environment lacerating) engine, the rhythm of the falling rain, and much more.

But, these are the noises (as opposed to sounds) that I loathe:

- Sirens: This especially applies to sirens in the night. You know when you hear a siren, police, ambulance or fire truck that something bad has happened to somebody.

- Piped music: This is imposed on us and it’s a violation. If you need music wherever you go (for some bizarre reason), then listen to your damn I-pod and don’t interfere with my peace.

- Loud vehicular speakers: I can ‘feel’ the booming four blocks away. And then the weasely little dropout in his inch-off-the-ground Civic with huge wheels cruises by -- Yes, there is good money in selling dope – and when he reaches my house the cacophony is brain-frying in intensity (not something the driver has to worry about). The mitigating factor with this one is that his ears will be shot by age 30. I like that.

- Harsh words: The sounds of fighting are hideous. I heard enough of it in my parental home, so if I hear it through the paper-thin walls of a hotel or motel room, it chills me.

- Sex: I love sex, but I don’t want to hear the moans and groans and climactic squeals of ecstasy from others, through that same paper-thin motel room wall. If I’m not part of what is going on, I don’t want to hear it.

- Barking dogs: A dog that barketh at midnight hath a master who beith a moron. And, of course, if a dog barks and then stops, you lie in bed waiting for him to start again.

- White noise: This is the age of white noise, and I go back to my original premise which suggested that even if we think our world is silent, it is not. You come to appreciate that reality if there is an unexpected power outage that shuts everything off.

So, I’ve given you mine. What are the noises that you especially hate?

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