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Riding in a Manchester (NH) Airport parking lot shuttle yesterday, a man to my left started talking to me. Or at least I assumed he was talking to me. He said, "Hello!" and he paused for a moment and then said, "Good to hear from you." I turned to my left to respond but a few things were wrong with the situation. First, he wasn't looking at me. He was looking straight ahead, across the shuttle and out the window. He didn't look blind but what do I know. Second, he had said, "Good to hear from you," as if I had already expressed this same sentiment. But I hadn't said anything at all. I had boarded the shuttle, unloaded my duffel bag and golf clubs, and then this man started talking to me out of the blue. I looked around. There was nobody else on the shuttle besides the driver.
I didn't want to be rude, so I said, "It's been a while." He turned to look at me, a questioning furrow in his brow, and I saw the wire coming out of his earpiece. He was talking on his cell phone. Of course. Obviously. I felt stupid. But I knew he couldn't see my right ear so I pointed at it like I also had an ear piece and then I gave him the finger like I didn't want him to butt into my conversation.
These people on their cell phones are everywhere. I know I probably sound like one of those oldtimers who sits on his porch and talks about how life was better when technology hadn't taken over the world and young women weren't running around showing off their navels. But listen. I own a cell phone. I use it sometimes. I just don't understand why some people have to talk so damn loud. At this point I'd rather listen to one of those crazy homeless people who shout at God. At least they a) make it very clear that they're not talking to you because they're looking up into the air and shaking their fists. And b) they summarize everything God is saying. Their conversations are like:
You say you can destroy me?
I'm not the insignificant one. I'm a person. I exist.
I shouldn't cross the street because you might make a truck come out of nowhere and run me over leaving blood all over the crosswalk? That's what you think you can do? Well, let me tell you something! Maybe I'll look both ways from now on!
I am NOT going to take this from you! I'm going under the overpass where you can't see me or talk to me.
And this is why crazy homeless people live under overpasses. But people on cell phones live right where normal people like you and me live. Sometimes they even live in Chinese restaurants in which you're trying to have a quiet meal but all of a sudden their Usher "Yeah" ring tone is going off and they're actually answering it. It's non-stop, in your ear, merciless noise pollution.
On the news last night they were talking about maybe letting people use their cell phones on planes. This would be the most offensive and poorly planned noise violation since Tori Amos covered "Smells Like Teen Spirit." There's already enough noise on planes. There are babies, and there are the engines, and there are those captains that won't shut up with the "buckle your seatbelt," "okay, now unbuckle your seatbelt."
And here's a tip to headphone manufacturers: make it so I can't still hear some kid's LINKIN PARK AFTER I'VE MOVED FIVE ROWS UP. Or at least design your iPod to self-destruct whenever somebody tries to download Linkin Park or Evanescence.
Yes, it's true. I moved five rows up and I could still hear this guy's awful rap-rock. But whatever, I figured the engines would drown out the Linkin Park as soon as they fired up. I was right. The plane took off and I turned to the grandmother to my right and her grandson by the window and I said, "It's better like this, isn't it?" They didn't know what I was talking about so I pointed to my ear and pretended I was talking on a cell phone.
I thought I was home free, no babies near me, no headphones, no cell phones allowed. I had the next four hours to relax and read the vomit bag or go shopping in the SkyMall. Then I heard two beeps from my right. I closed my eyes. It would go away. Nope. Two more beeps. I clutched the arm rests and prayed to every God to make the beeping stop. There was silence for a few seconds. Then:
Beep, Beep, BEEP, Beep, BEEP, beep, beep.
The grandson was playing his Gameboy. Not muted. I turned to my right ready to yell at the grandmother but she was asleep. And on cue, she started snoring.
The noise pollution is everywhere. I can't fight it anymore. I'm buying an ear piece and tucking the wire into my shirt. I'll walk around, yelling at nobody, staring straight ahead. Sure, I'll be noisy but at least I'll look important.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to take this call.
Unrelated Special Plate Moment
I'm telling you, these always happen when you fly.
So I'm in the Manchester airport, waiting to go through the metal detector. There's a mother and her young son in front of me and they're both wearing Mickey Mouse sweatshirts but whatever. All of a sudden, over the loud speakers, somebody is paged and told to come to Gate 8. Not a big deal. When you're in an airport, you always hear people getting paged.
But this woman in front of me turns around and says, "Uh-oh."
"What?"
"They just called my name. Is that bad?"
"Um, depends."
"What's it mean?"
"Well, are you late?"
"I don't know."
"When's your plane take off?"
"Fifteen minutes."
"Um, you're definitely late."
"Oh shoot."
So now the woman is in hustle mode, trying to run through the metal detectors. This doesn't go over well with the security guards who are specifically looking out for people who try to run through the metal detectors. I'm starting to realize that this woman has probably never flown before, or if she has, it's been since like 1987.
Finally they get through the metal detectors and they're waiting for their backpacks. But there's a problem. A security guard brings over one of the backpacks and pulls out...
A small battery-operated power saw!!!!
WHAT? This lady is clearly a few tools short of a full set. The security guard tells her she can check it. So the lady says "okay, check it." And the security guard says, "No. You have to check it." But by this time the woman has like three minutes left to make her plane.
Eventually, the power saw gets thrown in the garbage and the woman and her son run off to try to catch their plane. Unbelievable. And I didn't have anyone there with me to laugh at the whole thing.
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adam@theadamwhite.com |
