Thursday, November 7, 2013

Music or Noise

Clattering a cup full of ice this morning, as the drink machine began its cruel, whining refill, I was thinking what a loud place the world has become.

There’s been a brick-repointing project of some sort going on (interminably) at the office.  For over a week now, not only the beeping of the crane, but the grinding of drills stripping out the old concrete to make way for the new between our bricks.  Yesterday, the work made its creeping way toward our area, and today the roar and groan and beep and grind has taken an increase in pitch, and become a far more screeching affair.  Hideous.

Our wildlife, unsurprisingly, has taken a powder – and, even if it were here, taking a moment or two by the windows to look out on the blue heron or to spy an eagle or deer wouldn’t be worth it, when right next to the window there is a crane basket occupied by guys who just want to do their job and not get stared at.  It’s a small thing, not having that minute in the day to just step away from the desk, but all this time into this extended project, it’s telling at least on my nerves, and I no nobody else in the building is any more enamored of the process than I.

One small side effect of this issue is the resultant en masse response of resorting to ear buds.  Even I own some now – luddite that I am – but I’ve never been a fan of wearing my music on (or in) my head.  Back in the days of earphones, the headbands gave me headaches, and the earphones themselves generally pressed on the whorls of cartilage in my ears, and that hurt.  Now that it’s buds, they irritate me too, and as amazing as the sound quality can be, having foreign objects in my ears seems to be something I’m far from habituating myself to.

Foo Fighters, though, and Judas Priest are *almost* well suited enough to manage the awful noise, though.  And so, in order to overcome noise I can’t tolerate I jam noise I’ve chosen right into my cranium, and try to tolerate the delivery system instead.

So far, I don’t think I’ve managed to wear the buds longer than an hour, and at this point it’s a question of which NSAIDs will stay ahead of which particular noise and vibration headache I will allow.

Let it be said that, for my money, Fatboy Slim’s “Weapon of Choice” may not be everybody’s cuppa, but I still like it better than power tools.  Even if some wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference.

Highly effective:  “Hell Bent for Leather”.  Ice Cube’s “We Be Clubbin’”.  Run DMC’s “My Adidas”.  New Order’s “Shellshock” (you know, it never IS enough until your heart stops beating).  Fatboy Slim (and not even THAT mix, y’all!).

Less so:  TiĆ«sto.  Shakira.  Anything by Lacuna Coil, The Gathering, Amy Winehouse.

This wildly useful expertise is yours to use, all for free.  Implement such knowledge with care, fella babies.

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