Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a bit of a hearing impairment. I used to work in a loud industrial environment and so it wouldn’t be a surprise if my hearing had suffered as a result. But I guess I wore my hearing protection with enough diligence that I have hearing on a par with our cats. I mention the cats because I can be sitting watching the tube with my wife and the feline duo, and I’ll hear a strange noise the house decided to make, and both cats will turn and look in the direction of the noise origin at the same time as me.
My wife will not, and she’s never worked in a loud environment. Invariably I’ll ask her did you hear that, and she’ll reply that I’m hearing things. Fortunately the cats alerting is my proof that I am in fact hearing something, and after I point that out to her she always responds with then go look. Because apparently if you don’t hear the noise then you don’t have to worry about, or go and determine what caused said noise. If the noise is unusual enough then one of the cats has already gone to check it out. But cats aren’t very communicative, so unless the curious cat bolts up the stairs after a wander in the direction of the disturbance I’m left with no choice except to seek out the source.
Sometimes one or both of the cats will accompany me on the noise quest.
A strange noise usually means trouble, and so I’m compelled to investigate, and there’s always a moment of dread that accompanies the search for the source. Drips are bad. Thumps are marginally bad and increase my anxiety if the thump is loud or repetitive. If it’s loud enough for my wife to hear it then it has much more potential to be problematic. There are familiar noises and those are actually kind of comforting. Like hearing the furnace or the air conditioning activate, A noise affirmation that everything is functioning as designed. A new noise on the other hand is not comforting at all.
The house isn’t the only source of noise anxiety. Vehicle noises also have the potential to raise my anxiety level. It doesn’t matter what kind of vehicle either. Boat, quad, snowblower or SUV all make good and bad noises. Any vibration associated with a new vehicle noise is also bad, and has potential for being disastrous. My wife is blissfully unaware of these potential disasters unless I point them out to her and she’s forced to concentrate. Even then she looks at me after affirming she can hear what I’m describing, and asks me what I’m going to do about it.
So most of the time strange noises aren’t her problem. Maybe that’s part of the reason she doesn’t hear them. Generally speaking they’re not her issue. That’s what I’m here for.
We have three toilets in our house and my subliminal awareness clicks on with each flush, and turns off when the tank has refilled and the running water noise stops. No more water running noise is an assurance that I don’t have to go and screw around with toilets. Running water is rarely a good thing, and our dishwasher makes me crazy. It’s really quiet and so there are only portions of the cycle that make enough noise that I can hear them from another room. So if my wife starts the dishwasher and I didn’t know she started the dishwasher, then when the wash part of the cycle kicks in I can hear water running and I need to know the source. This annoys my wife and I always get attitude from her when I ask if she started the dishwasher. She’s judging me for over reacting but she still neglects to let me know when she started the bloody thing. Truth be told I think she gets some mild amusement from my water anxiety.
But she’s never had to replace a dishwasher.
We live in the North. Houses in the North make winter noises. Sometimes our deck will make a cracking noise that sounds kind of like a shotgun blast. This noise isn’t a problem. I know the source and I don’t have to go and work on the deck. The wood is just adjusting to the temperature. The house makes similar winter noises. Not shotgun like, but the sounds range from mild creaking to the occasional snap that’s slightly less than a blast, but more than a creak. These noises are also acceptable. It’s thirty below and to be expected.
My wife ignores these noises. She hears the loud ones but she seems comfortable that if she heard them then I heard them, and if there’s a problem then the cats and I will check it out.
Speaking of cats. There’s nothing quite like the noise a cat makes when they dislodge a hairball, or decide to vomit an entire bowl of wet food they inhaled too fast. I’m alerted to the noise because the little bastards prefer to unload either on the furniture or the carpet. Cleaning it up when it’s still warm is fucking gross, but finding it on the couch after it’s dried is worse. We have a box of hospital latex gloves for dealing with puked up warm cat food.
Those gloves are actually pretty handy. I recommend a box in every household. They work for fish filleting and they work for cat puke and toilets. Pretty versatile actually.
I also hear well outside of the house or vehicle. I wonder sometimes if it’s a trait more predominant in males because of our hunting and protecting the women and children legacy. Maybe we’ve been genetically programmed to identify problems and peril, and the habit is still ingrained but adapted. Now we listen for squealing tires instead of squealing farm animals. The first squeal means you might get smoked by a car you didn’t see, and the second squeal means your pigs might have gotten whacked by a wolf you didn’t see. Both outcomes are not good because you’re either hurt or hungry.
I’m pretty sure though that women can hear as well as men. But it’s looking like selective hearing is a valid phrase. Almost everyone has the capacity to tune shit out they don’t want to hear I guess. I just told my wife that I don’t have selective hearing.
She disagrees, and contends that she tells me stuff all the time that I don’t hear. She’s incorrect. I hear her but I don’t remember that the Tuesday after next she needs a ride to an appointment. That’s far away stuff that requires a reminder. I will admit though that sometimes when she’s talking to me about certain things that it’s more noise to me than words. Generally speaking, things that I really don’t care about one way or another. That’s not a good thing I suppose, but after our lengthy years together you’d think she would have this shit sorted out. It’s probable she tells me those things so when the thing occurs and I’m unhappy about that thing inconveniencing me, then she can with attitude remind me she told me about the thing.
Yeah, that’s probably why she insists on telling me things.
And then there’s my phone. I should probably shut off the notification noises it makes because the frequency of those noises annoys the hell out of me. I hate the compulsion to stop whatever I’m doing to see why the phone has summoned my attention. I feel like Pavlov’s dog each and every time, but I have this anxiety that the latest text or e-mail just might be important. So I need to pull over if I’m driving, or stop a conversation if I’m conversing, to see if someone died or if my daughter just sent me another picture of her cats.
Because there doesn’t seem to be a line of importance that separates when texting doesn’t cut it, and it’s time to actually speak to someone.
Phone noises doesn’t actually qualify as strange noises. But it’s noise that has added to the rest of the noise in my life, and just like running water it demands my attention.
The preponderance of noise in my life makes me wonder how I’d manage quietude. Probably not well. I think I’d assume something was really wrong, and I’d end up investigating quiet in the same way I’d seek out strange noises.
Except without the cats.