Shirley's Convertible

A few years ago Shirley had a Saab convertible. It was such a cool car; sleek, stylish and when we put the top down and drove around town – or better still when we drove into the country – it was lots and lots of fun. But it came with hidden costs, and not all of them had to be paid to her mechanic!

When she first bought the car a dermatologist friend was aghast – I love that word, aghast, it has such a wonderful feel – anyway, she was aghast saying that it was really bad for the skin because riding around with the roof down exposed you to the sun’s rays.

Shirley placated her by saying she would wear a hat. Which she did. Sometimes. But sometimes it was just so gorgeous out and so much fun riding around with the roof down that she, er, forgot.

Now it turns out her skin wasn’t the only thing at risk from riding around roofless. Her hearing was too. That’s because a new study says that riding in a convertible with the roof and windows down – and what other way is there to ride in one, I mean, really! – can damage your hearing.

The study, presented at a meeting of the American Academy of Otolaryngology, Head and Neck Surgery Foundation, measured the level of noise that motorists were exposed to while driving at 50, 60 and 70 miles an hour. The meter showed that it didn’t really matter how fast they were going because the decibel level was pretty consistent, around 86 but with a peak of 97.

The researchers say that regular exposure to that kind of sound can cause permanent hearing damage.

The researchers also say that driving with the top up and under 50 mph doesn’t cause any problems. But then why have a convertible for pity’s sake!!!

Think about how embarrassing it could be to visit your doctor and they say “I’ve got bad news, you have skin cancer” and you say “What!” “Skin cancer” “pardon, speak up young man, stop mumbling” and then the doc says “I am diagnosing you with an over dose of convertiblism, take two ear plugs, put the top down and call me in the morning.”

Fortunately the other hidden cost of the Saab intervened to save Shirley’s hearing. The darn thing kept breaking down. Every other month it seemed there was a bill for a new clutch, or new brakes. She would go for a drive and get towed back. The final straw came when the roof went down, but wouldn’t come back up. $500 later Shirley knew it was time to get a new car.

Now we have a Honda Civic. It’s sleek and fun and cool in it’s own way and it doesn’t require regular infusions of cash to keep it going. But it’s not a convertible and on sunny days when we see a convertible drive by with the roof down and the driver has the wind in their hair, the sun in their face and bugs in their teeth,  Shirley sighs.

I know she does because I can hear it. If we hadn’t sold the car that might not be true.

I love being up just after the sun has risen. OK, let me rephrase that. I hate getting up but I love being up just after the sun has risen. There is something magical about that time of day, there’s a freshness to everything, the streets are quiet and there’s a sense of possibility about the day ahead.

But what I love most is the silence, the lack of cars or other noises that assault our ears the rest of the day. It’s such a wonderful sound that it makes it worth the effort to drag myself out of bed just to hear it.

There is a line in the W. B. Yeats poem, The Lake Isle of Inisfree, that always comes to mind in that early hour;  “And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings”

Such silence is a rare and precious commodity, so we have to enjoy it wherever and whenever we can.

The other day Shirley and I were walking on a trail in the woods alongside a reservoir. It was gorgeous. Sunlight streaming through lush greenery, the wind whipping tiny waves on the water; the only sound was bird song and the wind blowing through the trees.

And then you heard it. At first muffled, then louder, accompanied by the slap of feet on the ground and heavy breathing. It was a too-loud iPod pumping music directly into a jogger’s ears, and overflowing out to taint the world around  her.

The music got louder as she drew level with us, and then, as she plodded puffing off into the distance, the sound gradually disappeared with her, but it left me a little sad that here she was, surrounded by beauty and wonder, and she was shutting herself off from it.

I know that running can be tough and sometimes you need a little something to pep you up, but this gal was running along a beautiful country trail, surrounded by incredible sounds and she was blocking them with some raucous rock.

Now, not only is too-loud music bad for your hearing (as someone who spent too many years listening to too loud rock I can tell you that it takes its toll over time) but it’s even worse when you have the source directly inside your ear. Even Apple’s own iPod manual has a section saying “Warning: Permanent hearing loss may occur if earphones or headphones are used at high volume.” Yet to pump that into your ear when you are already surrounded by wonderful sounds seems a terrible waste.

How often do you get to be in a place that is so quiet that you can hear the world as it used to be, uncontaminated by planes or cars or industrial sounds? Not very often. So why would you choose to ruin one of those few occasions by blocking those sounds with music you can hear anytime, anywhere.

Sometimes we just get so caught up in our day-to-day routines that we fail to see the wonder around us, fail to appreciate that just being quiet and listening to the world can be an amazing experience.

It’s not hard. All we have to do is turn off the music and open up our minds. It’s right there in front of us, if only we listen.