The Music Inside is Deafening.

Over at the gym it’s the regular crew at 6:30AM.  Teachers, mostly, I believe.  Today, neither of my daughters were in the mood to join.  I knew I’d have to leave on time for the call that is scheduled way too early every week on Tuesday morning.  Up the stairs and in and the music inside is deafening.  I believe the song is called Despacito.  Lovely.  There are only three people inside.  I complained the other day about noise pollution on the high-speed rail.  This I suggested was a Chinese thing.  Today’s gym-noise pollution however is a “foreigner” thing. 

I glare over at the offending device as I make my way over to the stair master.  Mounting the machine, I tell myself to roll with it.  Soon I’ll have my headphones on and it won’t matter.  Miraculously it is Void to the rescue.  “Who Are You.” Is the first song from their half album they shared with Faith in what must have been 1982 or so.  I can distinctly remember fantasizing about playing this very song in the serene meeting for worship sessions at my Quaker high school. 

I’m cranking this song’s all-out assault in my ears now.  There is feedback, much, much feedback, crashing drums and screaming.  But still, Despacito is managing to assert itself over this.  I imagine the many insulting things I could say about their music. Yes, but this way they can exercise without headphones, I consider.”  Wouldn’t we all like to do that.  How could they imagine that other people would want to listen to this nonsense?  If I insult the music I’ll be wrong.  That will be wrong. I know it.   Just politely ask if they can turn it down.  I go back and forth and back and forth and by the time my stair master session is over, so is the offending music. 

Later I had to go back to the school to meet a teacher.  Sometimes I see him in the gym too, but I know his music tastes and I suspect we could have found a happier middle ground.  While I’m there my little one calls me to inform me know the good news.  “I got the call back on the play!” That means I’ll definitely get a part.  I inform her that I’m actually at the school.  “OK meet you in the cafeteria.”  From there she takes me over to the theatre room door where she shows me the call back sign, with her name on it.  They spelled her name wrong, but it certainly doesn’t matter.  “Congratulations honey.”  Remembering her practice with me from the night before I asked her which accent she used during the audition.

Tuesday 8/29/17