Too Loud

At the risk of sounding like a crotchety old lady, I pose this question:  How loud is too loud when playing music in the car?

I ask, because this is what happened.

I was driving in my car, windows closed. I was on a two-lane road (one road in each direction) when I thought I heard something.  It sounded like it could be music.  I checked my radio to see if it was on.  It wasn’t.

The sound I was hearing would come and go.  One minute I thought I heard something, the next nothing.

“Oh my,” I thought.  “Is this what happens when you go crazy? Am I going crazy? They say you hear voices in your head though.  Nobody ever said anything about hearing music.”

I checked my radio again.  Nope, it’s off.

Just when my OCD talent for catastrophizing was about ready to kick into high gear, convincing me I was losing it, the two-lane road expanded into a four-lane and the car that had been behind me pulled up next to me.

His car windows were open and he was blaring his music.

First reaction: Oh, thank goodness.  I am not losing it. 

Second reaction: Yo, dude, turn it down a little, will ya?

Imagine how loud his music was blaring if I could hear him with my car windows closed and he was behind me?! 

I realized that the coming and going of the sound I was hearing must have been relative to the distance he was behind me.  If he got closer I heard it, if he lagged a bit, I didn’t.

And mind you, I feel like I can’t hear anything anymore. I have to have the TV volume cranked. Subtitles are necessary if there’s an accent involved. I am constantly asking people, what? What did you say? The days are numbered between me not needing a hearing aid and needing one.

Anyway, we continued apace of each other for a bit of a stretch.  Long enough for me to be subjected to his tunes.  It’s not like I could roll up my windows.  They were already closed.

I thought about my options. 

I could go tit for tat and put on my own music and blare it. Forget dueling banjos, we got dueling radios.

I could roll down my window and politely ask him to lower the volume a bit.

I could grin and bear it.  Well, maybe not grin.  Just bear it.  I could bear it.  I mean how much longer would he be driving next to me?

As I considered my options, maturity, one of the pluses of aging, won out. 

I practiced my mindfulness, took a deep inhale and a deeper exhale and went with option C of bearing it.

But as we drove apace of each other, I pondered some more.

At what point does one’s freedom to play their music in an open/public space infringe upon another’s freedom to not hear that music?

That was the million-dollar question.

My answer:

If you are playing your music so loudly that someone in the car in front of you with their windows closed can hear you, you are infringing.  A little thoughtfulness goes a long way.  You can listen to your music.  You can even listen to it loudly.  But you can put your windows up, or you can turn it down and be a little considerate of those around you.  (Hmmm, sounds like my Catholic school education is coming out here).

If that is the correct answer, then does that mean I am not a crotchety old lady? Eh, maybe, maybe not.

Would my younger self have been annoyed in that situation? Probably not. Probably would have been blaring music myself with the windows down in the first place.  Probably would have been clue-less that the crotchety old lady in the car next to me was hearing my music and was annoyed.

Either way, this possibly crotchety old lady needs to get prepared.  Warm, roll-down-your-windows-in-the-car, weather is here.  And the music will surely be blasting.