Blowing & Drifting

Forecast: Significant blowing and drifting, with the possibility of heavy accumulation in rural areas.

Hear Today, Gone Tomorrow

Saturday marked one year since I got my hearing aids. It was a melancholy anniversary, as you might expect given that the devices are often-annoying, expensive reminders of aging and decline. On the plus side, I can, you know, hear Shannon talk to me. I've become utterly dependent on them, which is, again, what you might expect. Not wearing them is like not wearing contact lenses, only there are no glasses to wear as a fallback. Without the devices in, I simply can't hear whole reaches of sound, including high-pitched sounds like female voices (not good in a house where just one-quarter of the humans are male) and some low-pitched sounds (forget listening to Mingus: his bass just vanishes).

With the devices in, the world is simply richer. There's a texture and quality to sound that I didn't even know I was missing, but which obviously is the norm. Popping the aids in each morning, the radio turns from a rising-and-falling buzz off in the distance into discrete sounds: interviewees talking, commercials blaring, music playing, public-radio announcers pleading. With the devices running, I misunderstand Julia not because I can't hear her, but because she's saying something crazy. Walking around with the aids in, people and cars actually approach me; they don't just emerge from a tear in the space-time continuum right next to me. Reality ain't what it used to be, but at least I have a better sense of it.