Thursday, August 30, 2007

Rock 'n' roll ain't noise pollution

I took a day off yesterday. It was glorious. I slept until 10, went to a doctor's appointment and then hit Wayside Commons hard. Did some shopping, came home and got in my pool to cool off, then went to dinner with M.

In all of my running around, I had the radio blasting the whole time. See, I'm a bit fan of the louder, the better, especially in the car. I was like that when I lived at home, too, which presented a problem when you consider my bedroom was right next door to my parents'. My dad and I were forever arguing over what I liked to call the Complaint Level. He used to come in and turn my music way down low, and as soon as he left, I'd turn it back up again. Constant arguing. Finally, he marked the space on the volume I was not to go over and we were OK.

Then I went away to college and had a neighbor whose stereo was bigger than mine. She liked to blast her radio in the morning -- you know, when I wanted to SLEEP. I used to keep a handy-dandy assortment of shoes by my bed to pitch at the paper-thin walls. It was then that I really realized how annoying loud music can be. Shit, by the end of the year, I think I knew the Melissa Etheridge catalog by heart.

So I'm a bit more considerate now about my music. But in the car, anything goes. Because some songs just need to be played loud. You know what I'm sayin'?

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