Sometimes white noise drives me nuts. As a child I could tell you from the opposite end of the house if the television was turned on even if the sound was all the way down while others would insist there was no noise. The hum of a computer monitor can be distracting enough to prohibit programming. At these times I like to put in some ear plugs dropping noise by 20db and effectively cutting out the white noise but still allowing you to hear.
I am programming and I hear a noise that I can’t identify. I take out an ear plug to acknowledge an airplane. A few minutes later with the ear plugs in I hear what sounds like a Cessna single engine plane flying too low. The sound is coming through the baby monitor and getting louder. I can only assume an appliance is dying despite a childhood flashback so I run upstairs to seek out the noise before it wakes everyone in the house.
The childhood flashback was to being in right field during a t-ball game praying that some lefty hitter didn’t smack the ball my way. I’d much rather hang out assuming my lack of ability than have the ball fly my way and prove my lack of ability. I was living in Kenner, Lousiana at the time. Lots of mosquitoes. During the game a skeeter eater would drive by, the game would pause as all the children would stare at the truck spouting off a wall of fog, the fog would approach and be welcomed by the crowd as we knew we’d have a few less bites that night, and the game would continue without so much as a thought toward what this horrid chemical might be doing to our lungs and tissues.
It didn’t take long for me to realize that no appliance was dying and no airplane was crashing into the house. I stood on the porch for a few moments and watched the funny looking truck approach spouting off its spray of whatever is supposed to reduce the mosquitoe population. As it neared, the outdoor cat meowed as if to say, “Am I supposed to hold my breath?” and I slipped back inside with the clean air feeling slight remorse for the cat while not allowing the dog to go out into the fog but happy to know that there may be a few less blood suckers tomorrow.