I have previously railed against leaf blowers, lawnmowers, edgers, trimmers, mulchers and all the other horrendous noisemakers that turn a bucolic suburban street or garden into a bedlam whose decibel count exceeds that of the average foundry. They are not alone.
Devices using electric motors now follow us indoors. Many of these infernal contraptions are probably lying in wait looking innocent under Christmas trees just waiting to erupt into an unholy cacophony on December 25th. Beware.
Vacuums cleaners have always been bad, but lately they’ve gotten worse, producing cyclonic winds that reach velocities well off the Beaufort scale. They clean carpets and floors while damaging eardrums simultaneously. Thanks, Mr. Dyson. Mini handheld versions even allow OCD cleaners to follow the unsuspecting from room to room, up stairs and down as you try to flee the tempest.
Once preparing a simple meal would entail no sound louder than the elegant whoosh of a sharp knife dicing vegetables or the hearty, comforting, muffled thump of a rolling pin flattening dough. Those homely sounds have been replaced by the grating of electric can openers, the keening of cuisinarts, the clatter of blenders, the bellow of juicers.
In every kitchen we are besieged by electric knife sharpeners and electric knives, the racket of coffee beans being ground and coffee makers hissing and spitting like angry cats. Electric spits for rotisseries rumble and refrigerators dispense ice, indeed shoot it across the room, with a rattle like coal down a chute..
Even otherwise silent devices like rice cookers and ovens feel compelled to communicate with us via tinny musical tones or gongs to alert us to changes in their mood. Microwaves and other devices blow virtual whistles to signal time is up or tweet like R2D2.
Once calming baths are now equipped with jacuzzis that rival outboard motors for fury. Even our teeth are processed by noisy machines, the thumping pulsations of water pics or the high-pitched whirr of electric tooth brushes. Not to mention the gale force scream of blow dryers. And our clothes are washed and dried by devices that agitate not just the textiles but the listener as well.
Our computers, cars, phones and thermostats have taken to talking to us in robotic voices that are just plain creepy. And don’t get me started on toys that speak and spell, shoot and maim, explode and sing, huff and puff. If silence is golden, we are all off the gold standard and increasingly impoverished. Even a trip to a relaxing paradise entails transport by a screaming jet so loud that noise canceling earphones have become the accessory du jour.
What’s a fellow seeking peace and quiet to do? The solution may be simple and old-fashioned. Unplug things. Retreat to the bedroom. Lock the door. Slip beneath the covers and pull them over your head. Insert earplugs. And hibernate like a Grizzly until the Christmas Carols and tinnitis fade to a dull roar.