Thursday, May 12, 2016


How many times have you been lying in your bed at night and just drifting off to sleep and some Neanderthal comes driving by with his woofers at full WOOF?. He is very likely to be a pimply faced little boy who looks like a troll and could not buy himself a date with a girl. So he and his friends are cruising in your neighborhood, sharing the milk of their taste in Rap music. Wait a minute, delete the music from that sentence, because it ain’t and insert a capital C in front of the rap because it is.

There was such an event that occurred recently in Jacksonville that resulted when a citizen in between doses of his Adderall emptied his 9 MM magazine into a car of punks who were playing their music in a loud and obnoxious fashion in the parking lot of a convenience store. He asked them to turn the C-rap down and they refused. He then went off the reservation and killed one of them and mortally wounded 3 others. Betcha the one who assumed room temperature wishes that he had just turned it down if only for a brief moment. I think he earned a life sentence in Federal prison for his action. Betcha he wishes now that he had just gone home and taken his Adderall.

My wife and I were recently at the beach to celebrate our 43rd wedding anniversary. We drove down to Mexico Beach one of our favorite hangouts. We always rent a room at the same place and enjoy the sounds of the surf. US Highway 98 runs right through the middle of Mexico Beach. Everywhere we looked we saw motorcycles. From the moment we checked into our room we heard the sound of motorcycles. For two days we got to see and hear, first hand, the participants in a week long gathering called “ Thunder Beach.”  I respect people’s right to own and operate a motorcycle. They are a fascinating sub-culture of people. Most of them wear Harley Davidson monogrammed clothing. Pretty much all of them have numerous and sundry tattoos many of which you would be ashamed for your minister, daughter or granny to see and read. The bikes they ride cost a pretty penny. I am not sure that Harley-Davidson stock is publicly traded but it bears looking into about like Smith and Wesson stock. One profile that I think demarcates the subculture is that most of them are OLD MEN. They have to have been successful to afford those Hawgs.  By the way do you know what they call motorcyclists down at the ER? Organ donors. In the meantime, ride those damnable things somewhere else besides my neighborhood or my beach.

I live on a busy street. The traffic at certain times is unmerciful. Everyone in Tallahassee cuts through Killearn Estates to get somewhere else. We also happen to have a very nice sidewalk that runs in front of my house. The joggers, walkers, bikers, pogo stick enthusiasts, etc. comprise a steady stream of traffic by my house. I cannot tell you the number of times that I have been awakened prior to 6:00 AM by runners and/or joggers that come by my house guffawing and talking to each other at the top of their lungs. It is the rudest, most selfish activity that I can imagine. Now I am proud of people who exercise. Heaven knows I could use a little more of it myself. However could you not do it without noise? How about give me your address so I can get my golf group together and drive golf balls off the side of your house at 4:00 AM.

I love the people who go walking through the supermarket with their cell phones on speaker. They are talking at the top of their lungs to someone on the other end talking at the top of their lungs. Do you really think the rest of humanity gives a rip what you and your genetically deficient friend are talking about? At the very least take it off speaker. At the very most wait til you get home to hold this meaningless, superfluous conversation.

Even mother nature intercedes on our quietude at times. I love mockingbirds. I think they are our state bird here in Florida. I have had numerous experiences at 3:00 AM where a mockingbird has decided to serenade me outside my balcony. A pellet gun can be useful during such episodes. Waving a towel at the energetic little insomniac is effective. I remember once upon a time visiting friends in Arizona. Now that is a serious time lag. If you can last to 10:00PM their time you are retiring at 1:00 AM your time. On this particular occasion I remember a mockingbird serenade beginning at about 2:00 AM EST and persisting well past morning. Maddening!

Why do the inhabitants of our world have to be so incessantly loud? Is it installed into their DNA? Do they need to be noticed? Are they lacking something in their personal lives? How many times have you stayed in a hotel where a party begins at midnight and persists for many hours right next door to you? This usually happens when you have to be at a meeting at 7:30 AM. I remember one such occurrence in the Rennaisance in downtown Atlanta. The party began at 1:00 AM. No pounding on the walls, calling the front desk beating on their door could tone it down. The smell of Mary Jane wafts through the door between your rooms. They have numerous bouts of wrestling on the bed that bangs up against your head board. They could care less that they are keeping you awake. On this one occasion I had to arise at 6:00 be in my meeting at 7:30. By this time they are sleeping comfortably in their beds. The last act before I leave the room is push the TV to face their door and turn it up to full volume. I am sure that they were so stoned that it mattered little. I still smiled as I pushed the button to summon the elevator.

Our US Constitution was written with these words in the preamble “….to ensure the domestic tranquility………” What the heck ever happened to that notion? In parting I find irony in the fact the army, CIA, UN, etc. brought the ruthless thug Manuel Noriega to justice by flushing him from his mansion by playing rock and roll at killer decibles 24/7 until he crawled out in a state of humble silly-puttiness and surrendered. Something to think about.

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