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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2010-01-21, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, JANUARY 21, 2010. PAGE 5. Bonnie Gropp TThhee sshhoorrtt ooff iitt There is something terribly wrong with a culture inebriated by noise. – George Steiner Noise is to music as weeds are to flowers. We encourage the latter and do our damnedest to stomp the former out of our lives. That said, there’s a lot more noise than music in our lives these days. Just think of some of the day-to-day sounds we take for granted that would utterly mystify our forebears. My grandparents never had their innards massaged by a throbbing in-car stereo. They never heard a nail gun. They wouldn’t know what to make of the beep of a microwave oven or that eerie four-bar flourish that announces the arrival of Microsoft Windows on our computers. My grandparents never suffered the roar of a snowmobile or a leaf blower at full throttle – and they certainly never heard an LRAD. Neither, for that matter, have I – and I don’t want to. LRAD stands for Long-Range Acoustic Device. Military types with their charming gift for euphemism – they’re the folks who dubbed flesh-shredding land mines ‘anti-personnel devices’ – have outdone themselves with their description of the LRAD. They call it ‘a communication device’. More accurately, it is a ‘sound cannon’ – a weapon that can blow you right out of your socks. The LRAD is basically a loudspeaker on steroids. It can be (and has been) employed by law enforcement officers to disperse protesters, rioters or … well, anybody that the authorities find annoying but not worth killing outright. When the trigger is pulled on the LRAD cannon, anyone it’s aimed at will be assaulted by an ululating siren like screech that can be precisely, and painfully, calibrated. How loud is an LRAD blast? Sticking your head next to a stage amp at a Rolling Stones concert might subject you to 120 decibels. At 130 DB you’d be writhing on the ground. At 140 DB your hearing deteriorates and you experience permanent hearing loss. The LRAD can deliver an aural punch up to 152 DB. Some communication device. Sound as a weapon. Just what we need in a world of chainsaws, car alarms and ambulance sirens. There should be an upside to living in increasingly noisier times. You’d think that we’d be getting fussier and more discrimina- ting in the noise department. You’d hope that the back-alley beating we’ve been giving our ears would at least make us appreciate the subtleties of nice noise – i.e. music. Sadly, the opposite appears to be the case. The sound quality that comes out of a standard compact disc is infinitely superior to the sound that emanates from those dinky MP3 players. But compact discs players, alas, aren’t all that compact compared to an MP3 player, which allows a listener to tote around up to 4,000 tunes on his hip. Accordingly, CDs are on the wane and every third person you meet is walking around with tiny noise-channelling amplifiers embedded in their earholes – even though the sound is decidedly inferior – even crummy. As a matter of fact, a music professor at Stanford University claims he has evidence that younger listeners actually prefer what he calls ‘lo-fi’ versions of popular songs to hi-fi ones. He claims that to a large percentage of the new generation, popular music is supposed to sound muddy and indistinct. More noise in our lives – and this time it’s entirely self-inflicted. But some might argue it’s not noisy enough out there. Take hybrid cars. The knock on hybrids is that they’re too quiet. Cyclists and pedestrians can’t hear them coming the way they can hear old gas-burning, piston-chugging ordinary cars and trucks. Collisions between hybrids and cyclists or pedestrians are ‘way up. Automobile manufacturers are now searching for some kind of aural warning device that can be attached to hybrids to let people know there’s an electric vehicle bearing down on them – but what kind of sound? A honk? A whistle? A three-bar yodel from Lyle Lovett? Whatever the final solution, you can bet your hearing aid it’ll be yet another noise your grandparents never had to put up with. Arthur Black Other Views Sounding off about noise It’s been there a few decades now, a splash of sparkle making a statement, not an especially pretentious one for certain, but still far from trivial. Having held its position for so long it has become part of the anatomical landscape, though it doesn’t draw the attention it once did, but still has significance. While it’s not often acknowledged, there’s no question it holds a special place. This I’ve never doubted, but I have been surprised recently by how special. It was a typical day, hands before me, tap- tapping on keyboard. Then a glance down exposed something amiss with my engagement ring. Closer inspection revealed that one of the tiny diamonds clustered around the centre stone was gone and I was surprised by the feelings that passed over me with the discovery. Before perspective was regained I was assailed by first, and possibly appropriately, a sense of loss. Soon to be followed by regret that I hadn’t taken the time to get it checked regularly, disconcertion over its damaged aesthetic, and, thanks to a vivid imagination, worry as to any possible significance. But none of this was anything over how it felt to actually take the ring off my finger and send it away for repair. I’m rather nonplussed over how odd it feels, an oddness amplified by the fact that I decided to send the wedding band along as well for some long-overdue TLC, leaving my finger bereft and bare. In a world where monumental loss is experienced by people every moment of every day, it’s so silly of me to put so much stock on the absence of some jewellery. But then again, this isn’t just any jewellery. On a gorgeous fall day in late 1979, a suggestion was made to begin a life together, and a week later, a sapphire and diamond cluster was placed on the third finger of my left hand. The following spring an engraved band was added, and with the exception of brief minutes here and there they have not left my hand since. Of course, in the early days of newlywed- dom I could often be caught gazing starry-eyed at the modest, but acceptably glittery twinkler newly gracing my hand. Admittedly since, that rosy glow has occasionally been overshadowed by practicality. Rings can be hazardous, scratching, catching or just getting in the way. Also, with time their lustre has diminished and like a callous middle-aged husband trading in his wife for a tight, toned, 20-something, my eyes have strayed to brilliant new gems and thought... perhaps. But deep down I must have recognized that over the course of the past 30 years my wedding rings have become as much a part of me as the hand they rest on. Regrettably I consider them with the same interest as well, seeing them but taking their presence for granted, neither taking time to reflect on their significance nor their meaning to me. It was only with them missing in action that I acknowledged their importance to me. My hubby is a practical fellow. Investing in a ring wasn’t going to make any difference in the outcome as far as he was concerned. But they symbolize something enduring and I suspect seeing me worrying with my right hand the absence on my left, he knows how much that symbol has meant to me. Ministers not all swimming rats Missing in action Premier Dalton McGuinty’s cabinet is seeing an exodus of ministers, but it is not simply a case of rats leaving a sinking ship. McGuinty’s Liberals have suffered from scandals and are down in polls deservedly and no longer assured of winning an election in 2011. But ministers, and this is no defence of them, are quitting partly at least for other reasons. George Smitherman, who left as deputy premier and minister of energy and infrastructure to run for mayor of Toronto, would have been a target of huge criticism if he had stayed in cabinet and hurt it as a whole. Smitherman, 45, had a creditable career in several provincial roles, but in an early one as health minister was among those who bungled an attempt to create an electronic health records system and allowed huge waste. Opposition parties forced the resignation of a more recent health minister, David Caplan, and were honing in on Smitherman. He will be relieved to move where he does not bear that burden. Government is glad he has taken his troubles with him. Smitherman also would have had difficulty becoming premier, because he is gay, and being mayor of a jurisdiction with nearly one- fifth of the province’s population and no-one to give him orders has its attractions. Michael Bryant, who held posts including attorney general, traditionally the top job after premier and treasurer, quit at 43 because McGuinty does not appear to be preparing to resign, resented Bryant showing eagerness to succeed him and even demoted him. Jim Watson, 48, who left as municipal affairs minister hoping to return to his former job as mayor of Ottawa, must have felt out of touch with current demands in that portfolio. Watson brought skills in publicizing. For example, when consumer services minister, he permitted restaurants to allow diners to bring their own wine, which attracted huge publicity and diverted attention from more pressing problems, but whose impact was trivial. But Watson proved reluctant to tackle serious issues, such as the need to ban municipal councilors from accepting donations from developers attempting to influence their decisions. This ban so far exists only in Toronto. Watson pointed out MPPs are allowed to accept such donations, but among many flaws in this argument they are not the ones who judge most applications for development. Watson claimed many in Ottawa municipal politics encouraged him to return and it may be because they felt he would be less of an obstacle to progressive legislation. Gerry Phillips, a minister without portfolio who recently took on Smitherman’s infrastructure and energy duties temporarily, has been reported as leaving, but his case is different from the others. Phillips is 68 and was a minister under premier David Peterson in the 1980s. He had such stature, that when he decided to run for leader more than a decade ago, he had the support of half the Liberal caucus. But he withdrew because of a heart problem and asked to be a minister without portfolio because of his health. He has won six elections and would not be leaving because he feared losing. MPPs have left the legislature before an election believing their party would not win. The biggest exodus was before the 1985 election, when the Liberals had not won government in 42 years and a poll rated new leader Peterson the least known of the three party leaders. Sheila Copps, Don Boudria, Eric Cunningham and Albert Roy, all of whom were certainties to be ministers in a Peterson cabinet, switched to run federally and the first two won and became ministers and the others lost and disappeared from elected politics. Two of the most worthy New Democrats, Richard Johnston and Michael Breaugh, who had paid their dues and even run for leader, dropped out before the 1990 election never dreaming Bob Rae would lead their party to victory. One comfort is those whose political lives depend on it have the same difficulty predicting election results as the rest of us. Eric Dowd FFrroomm QQuueeeenn’’ss PPaarrkk Always keep your words soft and sweet, just in case you have to eat them. – Andy Rooney Final Thought Letters Policy The Citizen welcomes letters to the editor. Letters must be signed and should include a daytime telephone number for the purpose of verification only. Letters that are not signed will not be printed. Submissions may be edited for length, clarity and content, using fair comment as our guideline. The Citizen reserves the right to refuse any letter on the basis of unfair bias, prejudice or inaccurate information. As well, letters can only be printed as space allows. Please keep your letters brief and concise.