Not That Music (Please?)

I think I have new neighbors.

Or possibly the old neighbors have suddenly developed a taste for a strange Halloween kind of music. It was blasting from their little house up the hill out into the world  (my world) the other afternoon when I got home from my day of substitute teaching.

I think it’s new neighbors.

I was very much not a fan of that music.

My son saw my distraught expression and offered his headphones.

I said, “I do not want to wear headphones in my house to block out someone else’s music.”

Possibly the music wasn’t even that loud in the house. It wasn’t bothering my son at all. I don’t think he even noticed it. But since I was listening for it (and annoyed by it), I heard it oh so clearly. The bass was especially booming.

One of my favorite things about living in the woods is that it’s quiet enough to hear the real world, the “not human” world. There’s the creek, the wind, the birds at my feeders. There are some human noises, of course, but mostly they are friendly, familiar, and don’t trouble me.  I don’t mind the train whistle, which blows every few hours, or the occasional delivery truck rumbling up the hill on its way to the store, full of potato chips or beer, two items that sell especially well at our little corner market.

I also confess that I am overly sensitive to loud music. I’ve been blessed in the eight years that we’ve lived here that it’s never been an issue. More than that? I am fond of quiet. Centering prayer has steeped me in that.

I thought about going up to the offending house to introduce myself that afternoon with the plan of nicely asking them to please turn down that hideous, terrible racket.

That probably would not have been the best way to handle it.

Luckily, before I could get my shoes tied and coat on, I thought of my wise friend who has often counselled me when I’ve been on the verge of dashing off a snarky text message or making a completely justified phone call to straighten somebody out, that it’s always wise to “HALT” first.  That is, not to initiate a potentially contentious interaction when you are “(H)ungry, (A)ngry, (L)onely or (T)ired.”   I was at least three of these, “tired” being at the top of the list, because while the subbing is good work, it does take a lot out of you.  So instead of marching up the street, I exercised a tremendous amount of self-control, turned on the dishwasher (could still hear the bass underneath it, though!) and took a shower three hours earlier than I normally would have with the bathroom fan and heater running.

The music stopped soon after that. There was much rejoicing.

Maybe soon I will do what I would have done earlier if I had known that new folks had arrived in our neighborhood. Knock on the door, say hello, and drop off something sweet. Cookies maybe, or a $5.00 Friday special cake from Safeway, (or a pair of nifty headphones?). Hopefully it would be a friendly meeting. And if, on the off chance, they gave off psychopathic vibes, I would at least have more information.

I just hope that I don’t have to start using headphones in my house.

I’m finishing this piece  a few days later, and the music hasn’t returned. I’ll keep you posted. And if you have any suggestions or wisdom to offer, I’d love for you to share. Feel free to drop a comment below.