People who commute during the day, people with real jobs, may be under the impression that the neighborhoods they leave behind are relatively peaceful in their absence -- they are not.

My computer and workstation is in a corner of the basement. Theoretically, this strategic location allows me to write in relative privacy (as in being away from relatives), however, it also puts me in the optimum position to both hear and feel all the noise.

For instance, my children are professionally trained dancers. Unfortunately for me, they save their graceful footwork for the stage. As they ready for school each morning on the floor above they are not seen but heard; also herd, as in a cattle drive, only noisier.

Car horns also seem to have replaced doorbells as the means by which to determine if someone is home. Many of these cars are equipped with stereos which are both over-sized and set-up to filter out any semblance of melody, leaving a non-stop pounding bass beat set at a volume approaching that of a space shuttle launch. The vibrations can not only be easily felt blocks away, but can be measured on the Richter Scale. Interestingly, all the songs share a similar arrangement:

In this neighborhood, it is de rigueur to employ a landscaping service even for small lawns that could easily be trimmed with a pair of scissors. The satisfaction with the service seems to be a function of how much noise is generated. Worst of all are the leaf blowers. I wouldn't mind a "leaf gatherer," some sort of giant, outdoor vacuum cleaner. But it's annoying to listen to that racket when they are just blowing the leaves from one lawn to another.

And that damn hammering1x Are they fixing up that abandoned house next door, wrecking it, or attaching it to my house? Well, at least when they finish, right after hell freezes over, the noise will have been for a purpose.

Then there is the crackle of gunfire. Oh, the neighborhood is safe enough. It is just that the county police firing range is nearby. The way sound travels around here it feels like the police are upstairs using my collection of Belgian beer glasses for targets.

Add in a few low-flying jets, some neighborhood kids / "town criers," and on a typical day I might hear something like this:

Crash1x Bong1x Hey, that's my cereal you idiot1x Slam1x Where's my hammer1x Cursing in English. Bang1x Bulls eye1x Honk1x Thump1x BUZZZZZZZZZZZ1x Cursing in Spanish. Smash1x Zoom1x Screech1x Etc.

And that's all before lunch1x

I deal with it as best I can. I play music. I run a fan, or a humidifier, for white noise. Ironically, the problem isn't so much the noise itself; it's the sudden and unpredictable contrast between quiet and noisiness. I probably could write more comfortably in an office where the chatter from equipment and borderline brainless conversations drones on at a fairly consistent level.

But then, I'd miss all this excitement at home.

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More on quieting things down: