Loud
It’s Blue Angels time again in Seattle and man, those fuckers are loud!
Of course, I don’t mind since that’s the sound of freedom, don’t you forget it!
Still, it does occur to me, sitting here in my basement, while jet-powered war planes roar overhead barely a football field above the roof of my house, that all of us in the modern world are forced to put up with a helluva lot of racket everyday, pretty much no matter where we go.
Last week, for instance, the guy who owns the duplex across the street from me spent all day, for three days in a row, power-washing and sanding his house from the deck of a cherry-picker that never stopped issuing the “back-up beep” warning the whole time. It all but drove me crazy, and probably would have had I not run screaming from my home in search of quieter pastures—which, by the way, were almost impossible to find.
I rode my bike downtown to sit in a coffee shop, but not surprisingly, they were doing roadwork outside of it, jack-hammering away so loudly it would have curdled the cream in my coffee did I not take it black.
So I headed over to Cal Anderson Park for some relative peace, but that was shattered by the pounding of the pounder machine they’re using to build the light rail station.
And even my usual relatively quiet bar wasn’t so quiet; there was an office party or something going on and all twelve or so members of the group were shouting at each other at the tops of their lungs.
It gets so a guy can’t hear himself think, but maybe that’s the point: if all I’m thinking is that it’s too damn loud around here, perhaps I might just as well not be able to access those thoughts.
Or give me an iPod with earbuds on high; then, at least, I can be deafened by choice.
Of course, I don’t mind since that’s the sound of freedom, don’t you forget it!
Still, it does occur to me, sitting here in my basement, while jet-powered war planes roar overhead barely a football field above the roof of my house, that all of us in the modern world are forced to put up with a helluva lot of racket everyday, pretty much no matter where we go.
Last week, for instance, the guy who owns the duplex across the street from me spent all day, for three days in a row, power-washing and sanding his house from the deck of a cherry-picker that never stopped issuing the “back-up beep” warning the whole time. It all but drove me crazy, and probably would have had I not run screaming from my home in search of quieter pastures—which, by the way, were almost impossible to find.
I rode my bike downtown to sit in a coffee shop, but not surprisingly, they were doing roadwork outside of it, jack-hammering away so loudly it would have curdled the cream in my coffee did I not take it black.
So I headed over to Cal Anderson Park for some relative peace, but that was shattered by the pounding of the pounder machine they’re using to build the light rail station.
And even my usual relatively quiet bar wasn’t so quiet; there was an office party or something going on and all twelve or so members of the group were shouting at each other at the tops of their lungs.
It gets so a guy can’t hear himself think, but maybe that’s the point: if all I’m thinking is that it’s too damn loud around here, perhaps I might just as well not be able to access those thoughts.
Or give me an iPod with earbuds on high; then, at least, I can be deafened by choice.
posted by Professor Dave at 11:30 AM
1 Comments:
Good afternoon Friendly Friend. I came acroos your blog as I was scouring the internet for supernatural guidance.....let me backtrack. This morning my 1984 Volvo stalled in oncoming morning traffic. As I saw MACK bearing down on me, my life flashed quickly before my eyes in a sepia haze marred with bad broads and broken bottles. I've recently turned 29, to me an age of reflection before 30's unknown precipice. I've long known that there had to be more to life, something bigger....not a larger meaning so much as something bigger than me...YES!!! A GOD. So where do you go when lookin for religion these days, Google of course. 6 hours later and I've been haggling with Hindi, battling the buddhists, and well the Christians just don't "do it" for me. Then I discovered Wauism..and I found MY Graceland. I am fascinated and rejuvenated by it, finally what myself and several buddies have been looking for. Somethging to call our life besides "our life", a spiritual path that doesn't care if you're in a valour tracksuit with no undershirt, or if you have decided to grow a shitload of facial hair but shave your head to the skin. What I want from you is permission to exsplore this religion,(maintaining ALL aspects of your original essay) furthur. PLEASE contact me @ Likwid20@Yahoo.com. We have so many ideas we want to do and think that it could be alot of fun for alot of people. THIS IS NOT A $ making venture this is for fun and daily laughs and religious/personal freedom. Please give us permission to enjoy your great idea and perhaps share it with the world furthur!! I await your reply eagerly. peace and Wa!
O. koko Boadu.
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