We live in a noisy world. The good news is that it is amazing what you can get used to. Early in our marriage we spent a year teaching English in Japan. We lived in a simple little house near a train crossing. The first night our dreams were interrupted by the sound track from the shower scene in the movie Psycho blaring into the bedroom. WHEEP! WHEEP! WHEEP! You can imagine what a soothing experience that was. After we had turned on every light and stopped shaking and our heartrates had climbed back down from the stratosphere, we lay back down just in time for the next train to come through. I have to admit it was a good system. Any driver near the tracks would be crystal clear that something very bad is going to happen if they continue on. And, after about a week, we got used to the sound and slept like babies.

Speaking of Japanese trains, where do they find the women who announce the train stops? Their voices are cheerful and start off about an octave higher than is normally possible for a human voice, and they keep getting higher and higher until only dogs can hear them. This never bothered us, since we don’t speak Japanese and wouldn’t have understood them anyway, but it was a point of interest not mentioned in the guidebooks. 

By far the most unwelcome sound in my life is the alarm clock. Of course, nature has provided us with a natural alarm clock in the form of the rooster. It’s my considered opinion, that the discovery of fried chicken came from the desperate need to kill roosters in the morning. I would dearly love to kill my own morning alarm with a hammer, but the results probably wouldn’t taste as good. The only alarm that I don’t wholeheartedly resent is the happy alarm on my phone that I only activate on vacation. Why would I activate an alarm on vacation? It’s your fault. You are likely one of the millions of people who are visiting the same attraction that I want to visit, so I have to get up at an offensively early hour to avoid the crowds to see the thing. 

Scariest of all are loud, sharp, unexpected noises. I about had a heart attack when, without warning, a series of rapid-fire shots went off at my desk at work. I dropped down and frantically looked around, all was peaceful except for the explosions. I slowly eased up and looked around. All peaceful. Students chatting normally in the hallway. I settled back in my chair, then CRACK! A pinecone? It was the pinecone I had picked up on the beach. I thought it was dry, maybe even petrified when I first got it. No. NOW it was dry and opening up like a wild west gunfight. This experience has made me rethink my plans to become a camper and reconnect with nature. What if I heard that in the middle of the night in the middle of the woods? I’m prepared to steer clear of bears and wolves, but pinecones? How do you defend yourself against a forest of pinecones?

You don’t. You stay at home with the beeping appliances, psycho trains, and criminals lurking in the backyard. You may be just as scared, but at least you have indoor plumbing.

Anneli Byrd is an academic adviser in Weber State University’s General Studies and Exploratory advising.