First everyone started wearing their earbuds everywhere. But I didn't have an iPod, so I didn't care and said nothing.
Then they introduced the iPhone, which has video, music and phone capabilities. I thought it was entertainment overkill, but it's way out of my price range so I said nothing.
Then I went to Meijer last Saturday. You know those carts with the Fisher-Price pedal car on the front for the kid to ride in? One got in line behind me at the cashier, and it had music piped in for its occupant.
This was the last straw. I had to say something.
Why this constant need for distraction? And before I go any further, let me make one thing clear: I have Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. My life revolves around learning to deal with distractions from all directions.
But is it necessary to do three things at once all the time?
The next time you go out on campus, try to keep count of how many people you see either talking on a cell phone or listening to an mp3 player. At peak traffic times, you'll probably lose count at around 50. Heck, odds are you'll have to include yourself in the count. Don't even bother trying to keep track of how many people automatically turn on the TV for background noise when they get home. But is all this constant racket really good for you?
In C.S. Lewis' "The Screwtape Letters," the title character, Screwtape (a demon), calls Hell the "Kingdom of Noise" and quotes an unnamed human writer who refers to Heaven as "the regions where there is only life and therefore all that is not music is silence." And somehow I don't think Panic! at the Disco counts as music in this particular context.
It's an extreme example. But Screwtape's point is that when a person is surrounded by noise, constantly bombarded with conversation and clamor passing itself off as entertainment, it becomes nearly impossible for him or her to devote thought to the higher ideas. You know, those bothersome abstractions which set us apart from our four-legged cousins and lead us toward better things.
Is the iPod evil? Certainly not. It's an object, just like my desk lamp, and no more or less wicked. But if I constantly misused my lamp, making it shine in my eyes so I couldn't see to read or do something useful, then it would be a problem.
What would be even worse, however, would be if I shone the lamp in my eyes so I didn't have to face myself in the mirror.
I can't think of a worse way to live than to go through life trying to drown myself out. I've been down that road. It doesn't lead anywhere decent. At best, it's a half-life. At worst, it's suicide. It is the antithesis of a vital, vibrant existence, and it contributes nothing to anyone's well-being.
Does everyone with an iPod face this fate?
Only you can answer that.
So here's my final question: if you didn't always listen to your iPod or talk on your phone or half-watch the TV while you ate lunch or did your homework, what could you do instead? You could talk face-to-face with a friend. You could write that short story that's been knocking around in your head for a while. You could read the biography of some great historical figure. You could bravely face some personal hurdle. You could draft the next great essay on the state of humankind.
Or you could learn to enjoy the silence.
Write to Joanna at jllees@bsu.edu