It’s been endearing to receive so many birthday wishes via social media. I’m always appreciative when individuals take time to convey regards; a gratitude mirrored when also making space in their schedules for tarries to my website writesaidfred.org and/or read my narratives.
With my time predominantly spent in solitude for a few years now, by choice I hasten to add, gaining an awareness I still register on peoples radars is heartening. It’s gratifying that out of sight hasn’t been out of mind for some.
You could rightly argue that “Yes, we hardly see you from a physical perspective, Gary. You’re hardly a e-hermit, though, you’re always posting stuff on Facebook…. In fact, so much so it’s been necessary to mute your incessantly published inanity – You attention-seeking buffoon!”……. An accusation of which I plea guilty as charged..
If truth be told, the older I get the more I seek out serenity bequeathed from solitude. I despise noise and the fact many people don’t talk at a normal volume anymore. For some reason, we exist in an era where many individuals verbally deliver observations at the cacophonous levels of an 18th century town crier.
I’m unsure at what point in our evolution homo sapiens mouths developed into megaphones. However, as I plunge ever deeper into curmudgeonliness imparted by the ageing process, I can be certain it’s a development yours truly finds increasingly irritating.
This may appear harsh, but personally I blame Simon Cowell as a catalyst for this proletarian over-excitable oration. To my mind, this unnecessary clamorousness coinciding with inception of this genre of TV talent contests.
Accepting audiences tumultuously caterwauling as mainstream, in order to soup up lukewarm tabloid TV fare, seemingly manifesting generations who’re unable to communicate below a 180 decibel rocket launch.
Cowell may argue countless number of people’s existences have been enhanced by his latter day equivalents of 1960’s/70’s talent show Opportunity Knocks (OK). Claiming the Hughie Green show’s audience did influence results with noise.
However, I’d counter that with the observation OK producers sought the far more acceptable reaction of hand clapping; not the boisterous animal-like howls encouraged from an X-Factor or Britain’s Got Talent crowd.
Of course, blaming of Cowell for the populace establishing cacophony as in vogue is undertaken with tongue firmly tucked in cheek. After all, Sizza’s a good man who’s done lots for charity, has heavily influenced contemporary music and TV culture. Not forgetting frequent displays of benevolence, such as allowing his cash strapped local cinema to project movies onto his white t-shirt.
My fairly new-found distain at excessive noise has been particularly troublesome post heart attack 15 months ago. With a cardiologist’s edict of avoiding existential stress still ringing in my ears, over-sensitivity to a rambunctious soundscape introduces challenges at adhering to doctor’s orders.
Breaches of quiet when writing, affecting my concentration levels is another potential trigger to moments of angst. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve been robbed of a creative notion due to being distracted.
The main protagonists to epiphany loss being TV background noise, along with none urgent vocal interjections from my mum, including her habitual tic of asking me a question I’d answered thirty minutes earlier. This ever diminishing memory retention a big contributing factor to my desire for quiet and distraction free environment to undertake my penmanship.
They say that listening to rainfall can be a calming experience, but it’s throwing it down at the moment and I’m still feeling incredibly fraught…….. Perhaps, it’d help if I fixed that bloody hole in the conservatory roof!!….. Incidentally, has anyone got a brolly I could borrow?!