Tuesday, February 07, 2017

A song and dance about nothing

I love a party. I mean I REALLY love a party. Lots of food and drinks, people spilling out everywhere, music belting out in the background.  And I'm very happy for anyone else to have a party. Usually. Mostly.

But over the past couple of years I have become less and less tolerant of parties. In fact it's not even the parties. It's the music - or even more precisely, the pounding bass that comes from speakers at such parties. 

And, unfortunately for me, there are two places near my house that LOVE their bass.  The worse bit for me is the lack of control - I'm in my own house, minding my own business, and I have to put up with the walls vibrating and that horrible 'boom boom boom' that hits you in the solar plexus but doesn't really make sense without the tune, that is conveniently muffled by my locked doors and windows.

I hate that I am feeling pushed out of my own home.  I hate that I have no choice about when that noise begins and ends, and worse, that whether it is once a year or once a week, it is relentless.

Besides, working in the events industry, it staggers me that such noise is even allowed, when I consider the hoops that my own organisation has to jump through to stage an event. 

I'm told that I'm the only person that cares.  In fact in what is not my finest hour, I lost the plot completely last night (picture this: me in my nightie, standing at the front door screaming and swearing at the 'perp' who came down at 11 pm in response to my (very polite I thought) Facebook post requesting the music get turned down and ...mostly... spoke in a measured voice and told me I needed to 'calm down and relax more'. Yep that was really going to work). Maybe I am the ONLY person in a kilometre radius who actually does care.  But you know what, that does not make my response any less valid. And something tells me I'm not (oh..it might be the people that tell me they aren't happy either.. but have either given up or are too scared to say anything).

It is a song and dance about nothing? Do I need to be more tolerant once a week, once a month, once a year?  

Maybe I do, but that fact that I am now considering leaving the home I love because I have absolutely had enough of the neighbourhood, makes me sad beyond measure.  And that is nothing to sing and dance about. 

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