Quiet, Please

I’ve noticed that we live in a noisy world. I marvel at how loudly people talk while just walking down the street. Sometimes a friend accompanies them. Other times they’re alone, hollering into a phone. Are they shouting to be heard amidst the street noise surrounding them? Or perhaps due to hearing loss resulting from our noisy world of leaf blowers, diesel trucks and juiced up muscle cars?

People also feel a need to “share” their conversations with the world, in high decibels. Are they seeking to prove that they’re worthy creatures with friends? I’ve heard deadly TMI during these one-way conversations. Everything from, “Yeah I just got out of jail” to intimate details of the speaker’s latest bout with herpes and hemorrhoids. Remember when human beings had some semblance of pride and discretion?

Locking and unlocking cars set off horn blasts because a mere flickering head/tail lights isn’t good enough to inform anymore. And why is it always music that sucks blaring from cars and phones? 

If your neighbor decides to have an outdoor party with whoops and drunken laughter well into the wee hours, a polite ask to keep it down results in even noisier braying.

The endless array of racket that humans make strikes me as pathetic cries for help. I cherish silence. I dread July 4.

Ramona Wise


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