Sounds Like Noise
Of all the irritations that life in the city has to throw at us, the blasting car radio has to be up there at the top of the list. You're sitting in traffic, at one of those interminable several-direction stoplights where every other lane gets to move before you can even think about it, and a neon red low-rider convertible with flames painted on the side pulls up next to you with rap music blasting out of amps that sound like they were lifted from a Dr. Dre concert in the Colisseum. Your sinuses start to rattle, your eyeballs quiver, and the NPR discussion you were listening to about discrimination against Section 8 renters in the San Fernando Valley is swallowed up in the tsunami of sound. You sneak a quick peak in the car's direction, praying you don't make eye contact with the driver for fear he'll pull out a gun and shoot you. The best you can do is be thankful he isn't listening to Ethel Merman.
posted by John M Crowther @ 6:41 AM
10 Comments:
The joys of living in the country. That doesn't hppen here. I agree with your impled opinion of ethel merman. roger btw. good cartoon.
hahaha... funny John :-D
In a last ditch attempt to get motorists attention... I read somewhere that ambulances and police vehicles (in some sort of quasi can't beat 'em so we'll join 'em scenario) are going to be fitted with those super sonic sub woofers (the ones that go dooj dooj and rattle yer ribs from four blocks away) because sirens just aren't being heard! ;-) LOL
This is indeed a great cartoon, John C.
I live in the country as well but we have our share of blasting boomboxes when the teenagers in neighborhood are arriving home and one happens to be on the road going elsewhere.
>>The best you can do is be thankful he isn't listening to Ethel Merman.<<
In defense of Ethel, she was the great favorite of Cole Porter and Gershwin who wrote many of their best songs for her splendid trumpet of a voice. In addition, the great conductor Toscanini was once asked by Sam Chotzinoff, the man who organized the NBC Symphony and brought the maestro from Italy to conduct it, what T. wanted to do when he came to New York. Toscanini immediately asked to be taken to see the musical comedy star whose power of voice must have reminded him of Caruso’s. Ethel’s voice could surely fill a house, reaching the last row of the balcony, and –needless to say-- she never needed a microphone.
I'd best pass over your sideling swipe at The Majestic Merman and focus on your more cogent point. This infernal technology can rattle not only ribs and sinuses but the Id as well. The bass notes, which literally vibrate through the earth and up into any solid structure sitting thereon, are particularly deleterious to mental balance and can in fact cause serious physical illness if prolonged. To this potential effect, sub-sonic waves were directed at foreign embassies, etc. by both sides during the cold war, but it was difficult to ascribe any subsequent malaise to the tactic.
In stoplight scenarios, my brain waves veer from alpha to lupine almost instantly, and I'm left with a misanthropic hangover that can take a good half-hour to dissipate. Only once have I sought the perpetrator's attention, rolled down my window and explained the physical distress I was experiencing. After a jaw-gaping, two-beat silence, he laughed derisively and sped off, leaving me feeling, despite my indignation, like an old fart -- which I will admit is accurate on both counts.
Increasingly, there are local ordinances in place disallowing any sound emissions that can be heard outside the vehicle when the windows are rolled up. However, the transient nature of the "crime" makes enforcement spotty at best.
Even worse are sub-sonic home invasions. On an almost daily basis, someone within a possible half-mile radius of my bedroom cranks up what must be four-story-high speakers, and the subtle but persistent "thump-thump-a-thump" travels up through the floor and the bed to my skull as I try to sleep. It's a nightmare, even though I can't get to sleep to have one. And what recourse exists, aside from mounting a vigilante safari in search of the source? Call the Sheriff? HAH! Tell him this story and he laughs just as hard as the guy in the car.
Great rant, ixthvs!
To set your and il prof's minds at ease, I've always been a huge fan of la Merman. I simply can't imagine her voice blasting out over the intersection of Crenshaw and Slausen, breaking car windows. I'll always remember her entrance down the aisle in Gypsy, braying "get out of the way, world, here comes mama." To this day it sends chills down my spine. I first saw Merman in Annie Get Your Gun when I was very small, and will never forget being taken backstage afterward to meet her. She once told an interviewer that Broadway had been "very very good to her." To which she quickly added, "but then, I've been very very good to Broadway."
I thank John for acknowledging the genius of Merman whose recordings of Cole Porter’s “You’re the Top” and “Down on the Depths on the 80th Floor,” are amongst the greatest treasures of recorded American musical theater.
There are also some wonderful Merman anecdotes, my favorite being this one: Merman always had eyes in the back and side of her head. During the run of a Broadway show in which she starred she was very disturbed by the on-stage behavior of the ingénue in the show. When she asked a senior member of the cast what the girl was doing, her colleague explained: “Ethel, she’s only reacting to what you say.” Ethel replied: “Listen, I don’t act while she’s acting so tell her the hell to stop.”
Doubt if anyone reads comments on days-old posts, but sometimes I succumb to being a stickler. Actually, there were 90 floors from which Ms. Merman would fall if her depths got any deeper. Either way, the splatter would be ugly.
I read 'em, ixthvs. LOL. I'll keep posting here if you will, even if it's just the two of us. In another interview la Merman was asked if she ever had stage fright. "Why should I?" she answered. "I know what I'm doing."
LOL on all counts. I don't have any Merman stories, although I saw her live as a very young child, and given her volume, she might just as well have been sitting right next to us in the cheap seats. And DISTINCT, too, which is my all-too-common complaint nowadays.
Every couple of years I get a yen to hear that totally unique timbre, and I put on the 15-min. Merman-Martin duet medley from the Ford 50th Anniversary telecast from the '50's. She sure as HELL knew what she was doing. Instinctual, apparently. Although, she may not have been as agile a wit. When appearing on the Match Game show in the 70's, they put her in the traditional "spacey broad" seat and she pretty much lived up to the billing (or was that an act?!)
Maybe this thread could evolve into a spin-off Merman tribute site.
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