Daily Prompt: Turn up the volume

World of Information 25.05.2016 Exhibition 10010ENTER0101 (12)

I grew up in a world of noise, we always turned up the volume otherwise you could not hear it so well. Dad was the specialist. After 5 years on the heavy canons in the war folowed by many years working in a factory, his decibel quota had been completed. Our telephone would ring at home, but dad never heard it. He would be sitting next to the phone, and in those days there were no fancy songs played on the phone, it was a ring-ring contantly but dad just carried on reading his newspaper. It was not that he did not want to hear the phone, but he was in his noise immune world.

Somehow mum discovered that it was possible to have a extra telephone bell in another room, so we had it fixed in the corridor – halls were not existent in 1884 when our house was built, neither were inside toilets or running hot water. Electricity was only added in the 20th centuary and telehones were not yet invented.

Now we were prepared and when the telephone rang the street could hear it with the additional bell, only not dad.

Although I would add that mum’s family were programmed to loud. Her sisters never actually had a conversation. As aunts they were perfect, but they never actually spoke to you, it was more a shouting match. Of course, mum also belonged to the club, although she always said that dad would not hear her otherwise as an excuse.

Time goes on, mum and dad and her sisters are no longer amongst us, but one thing must be said, I can still hear their voices today, a sort of lingering echo from the grave. Me? I am convinced I have a normal voice, although Mr. Swiss has now and again mentioned that perhaps I should turn down the volume as the neighbours are probably sharing our conversation. I suppose it must be in the genes. Although if you are married to a hobby drummer, I suppose you do not notice the volume eventually.

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Daily Prompt: Turn up the volume

14 thoughts on “Daily Prompt: Turn up the volume

  1. Love the photo of Mr Swiss. I remember when my grandson wanted to play the drums; I think he even went to a class but it didn’t last very long. I am about to write a blog (after a long pause) about an electrical recording event.

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    • Mr. Swiss has played since he was a teenager and still does. Now and again the golden oldies get together for jam session, mainly jazz, modern, but not too modern. My eldest son is constantly attending concerts, he knows all the musicians.

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    • I remember the old days well, a thing about being a golden oldie – long term memory. Luckily Mr. Swiss has the drums in our hobby room, so I do not hear them. Otherwise I love to hear them when he plays naturally in a band.

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  2. My mom and aunts were the same, though they would often start out at a relatively normal pitch, but sooner or later the conversation would become a discussion and sometimes even turned into an argument. It was great because whoever was losing would sooner or later say, “I don’t know why you’re yelling at me. What did I do?” in a soft and rather sanctimonious voice. I can still hear all of my aunts, too. I hope I do as long as I live. I loved your sentence about your dad having reached his “decibel quota” — the same was true of one of my office mates who served in Viet Nam flying a bomber… He denied it.

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    • They never really had arguments and often the conversation had some loud laughter in between. When dad moved into his extra care apartment I would call him regularly on the phone which got quite loud on my side. He never wore his hearing aid as he found it “no good” .when he kept answering “yea” I knew he was just being polite and did not hear what I said, so I had to shout and keep repeating until I got a normal reaction.

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