Make Mine Mike

Today's gripe:

Everyone be quiet!
Cállate!
Ferme la bouche!
Sheket b'vakasha!
Shut uppa you face!

I've gotten used to the air pollution in LA. My lungs can handle the smog. I've adapted to thriving on exhaust fumes. Comes from growing up around smokers, I guess.

But the noise pollution… Keep it down!

I live on the second floor of a one-bedroom apartment building, across the alley from another complex. So I can hear what everyone's doing. And apparently, people are doing things at 6AM. Loud things.

Like taking a bath and grunting as they splash in the water (I won't speculate on exactly what's going on there). Or allowing their lapdog to act like a rooster at sunrise. Yapping away is just as cacophonous as "cock-a-doodle-doo." And then there's the guy who's never heard of Robitussin, and would rather spend three hours trying to dislodge the phlegm from his throat. When I wake up, I feel like a blind man at a performance of "Stomp", hearing an arrhythmic progression of Grunt! Yip! Cchach!

So I go out to write at coffee shops, but there it's the cellphone users. And I gotta overhear these conversations. Do I get to hear something good, like some chick's latest sex escapades, or a good stock tip, or where the body's buried? No, it's more like, "Oh, nothing… having a latte. What are YOU doing?" People bring their little contraptions with them as their date. Where's that relationship going? Do you take T-Mobile to be your lawful wedded wife? If your answer is yes, press pound now. Years later, instead of asking, "Do you still love me?", the question will be "Can you hear me now? Good!"

If this riff on sounds sounds kinda schticky, well, yeah... I used some of this bit in a stand up act. Didn't get a lot of laughs from the audience, which was fine.

For once, I had some peace and quiet.