It wasn't me being drilled; it was Chris. I was just waiting there on Tuesday night so that I could drive him home after his hour long surgery, poor fellow. While he was suffering in the other room, I was suffering too from the loudspeakers emitting the radio station known as Ottawa Classic Rock in the waiting room, this headache-inducing electronic beat interspersed with local adverts, also accompanied by an electronic beat, in case listeners weren't getting enough of it. I didn't find that proof-reading Chris' paper on Building Sufficiently-Available Systems was enough to take my mind off the "music". How people can find such a hideous din relaxing is a mystery I can never expect to fathom. I hope and pray that I am not going to be inflicted with anything like this on my deathbed because for sure it would speed things up; every muscle in my body tenses in revulsion.
blending an assortment of thoughts and experiences for my friends, relations and kindred spirit
By Alison Hobbs, blending a mixture of thoughts and experiences for friends, relations and kindred spirits.
3 comments:
Sounds like it WAS you being drilled, actually. You have got increasingly hard-line on this issue, I notice!
Hard-line? Maybe so, but revulsion isn't an opinion; I'm just reporting a physical fact. I'm not so sure my intolerance is "increasing", either. Haven't I always been like this? I remember when I was 19 (or 20 at most) Chris taking me to a highly recommended night-club in London. We found the place, paid the considerable entrance fee (even though we were impoverished students), went in and sat in a padded booth where drinks could be ordered by (rotary dial) telephone: the epitome of sophistication in those days! You know how much I've always appreciated new experiences, BUT in this place a very loud noise was playing. We stood it for about five minutes before we looked at each other and said, "let's go." So we upped and went. We can both still remember what a relief it was to get out of there and walk away.
I remember that rotary-dial (loop-disconnect) telephone (speaking as a telephony engineer, I've finally found a point of contact to my wife's blog! Life is looking up.).
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