To round out our seasonal thoughts, we’re going to talk about Fall today. (Here are the other seasons.) As usual, our focus is on different things. For Julie it means tailgating!!!!!!! Meanwhile Brad takes a hike in the woods and a quaff of a brew.
Julie
Ahh, the arrival of Autumn in its splendid hued glory. I have already noticed leaves changing slowly along the highway corridor as I hurtle to and from work during these frenzied first school days. I am filled with anticipation and tingliness at being on the precipice of my most favorite season. I delight in the crisp mornings when I step outside with a sweater in hand “just in case” even though I know that it will inevitably be in the mid-80s by lunchtime. I get excited at the prospect of tossing on an oversized, well worn sweatshirt emblazoned with the football or hockey team of my choice. I sit in smug judgment of the “pumpkin spice” people and applaud my own discerning palate at not falling victim to that nonsense, while I sip my unadulterated brews. (Yes, Brad, I am judging you and your orange cans). I am thrilled to know that the humidity and mosquitos have returned to hell where they belong thus leaving my skin unblemished and my hair perfectly straight.
Ahh, Autumn. Welcome back.
I welcome back my favorite sounds – it may seem a bit silly, that someone with a hearing loss has favorite seasonal sounds – but I do, and they all occur from roughly August 30th to November 25th. The leaves are crunchy, fires are crackling, beers are fizzing, grills are sizzling, and the best sound of all blasts through the air on any given Saturday – “For Boston”!
My beloved Boston College Eagles are back on the gridiron at Alumni Stadium and I am firmly planted in my seat in section RR, Row #2, screaming my fool head off at every home game. (I also scream my fool head off from a couch during every away game. Most recently at Brad’s house with Happy on my lap who I remembered to not throw in the air during a particularly bad call!)
I love game day. I am recharged by the crowded parking lot, stealing glimpses of classmates, jostling around friends and family members, and cheering on the Eagles as they process past our spot on their way to the stadium.
The environment is positively charged with energy and it is very, very loud.
And I LOVE it -the louder the better! The clinking of cans as a hand gropes about in the cold ice for a beverage, the careless slamming of cooler lids, and the screeching chorus of greetings from one to another upon finding your friends that you only see at a home game. I stand amidst this pure chaos, and smile. I feel recharged, and I revel in being back “home” at the place I love the most, Boston College.
And then it happens.
I am plummeted into near silence and stillness while the activity swirls around me in a frenzy.
The dynamic range compression technology strikes again.
And I am powerless to stop it.
It is a well meaning technology to be sure, designed to protect the hearing that I have left with its assurances that the way sound is processed won’t be too loud or too soft. I intellectually understand the reasoning behind it from a health and design standpoint. I also recognize that it is the season of Fall, and the leaves change color and drop to the ground showing us how beautiful it is to simply let go…
I can’t let it go.
It is horrible.
I have been plunged into stillness and silence without warning. I am unable to “reset” my hearing aids to make the world come back to life for me again. My independence and agency is stripped right away from me – all due to a little bit of technology. I never know when it is going to happen, either, as it is all dependent on decibel volume and each tailgate experience is different.
My excitement at reconnecting with classmates I spotted across the way is extinguished as I just don’t have the energy to explain why I am struggling to hear them. I miss out on the latest family gossip tumbling rapidly out of my nieces and nephews. There is music playing somewhere, I can hear something but have no idea what it is and cannot enjoy it.
Left alone, I employ a strategy honed from years of experience. I grab a plate, pile it up with food, grab my chair, and retreat to the opposite end of the car where it is less crowded. I settle into my seat, begin to eat, and “people watch” – my second favorite thing to do on a seasonal Fall day.
My family thinks that I am taking a little break from the craziness or sitting to preserve my knee before making my way to the stadium. There is a kernel of truth there, but largely it is a coping mechanism. I am faced with frustration which can quickly spiral to anger followed on its heels by sadness – all of which will then impact my overall experience of my favorite days. Instead, I pivot – and make the best of the silence by taking a break, enjoying a meal, and watching those around me as they go about their game day experience. I love seeing the ensembles that people have carefully donned to express their Eagle pride. I get a kick out of watching the current college students try and dodge security with their illegal beverages, only to get caught. I crack up watching the little kids in their football jerseys dash around the parking lot with their mini-footballs. I soak it all in, and distract my thoughts from the ever present fear that one day, this will be all that I have when my hearing fades away for good.
Brad
Ah. Autumn, how I love thee? Let me count the ways.
Oh, no you can’t fool me, Miss Browning!
Counting is math. I’ll have no truck with math. In the stead of numbers I shall make my words count.
I love how the colorful symphony the trees play for me will give way to the crackling ballad the leaves will shout to me as I trek through the woods. The nip in the air allows me to don a hoodie on a hike. This assuages a bit of my concern about the chance I’ll be subjecting my bionic ears to the pellets of silence that the rain would throw at me. With that I can fully embrace the rejuvenative powers being surrounded by trees has for me.
I’m a taciturn fellow, most always thinking before speaking. I don’t always feel the need to fill a silence. I’ve no problem keeping my mouth shut. But when I get into the woods for the first time in The Fall, safely ensconced in a hoodie, a sigh comes unbidden to my lips.
Being able to toss my hood up to protect my aids allows me to fully relax. Something I don’t do very often. In the warmer times that are the Spring and the Summer, a cloudless sky doesn’t mean a hill of beans. Not when that old New England adage “Don’t like the weather? Wait a minute.” has proven true many a time. And so I must wait until the Fall to feel fully at ease outside. (And it’s not just the big scary outside world that causes this consternation, either. Julie and I were recently sitting on my porch watching Mother Nature play a thunderstorm for us. And I remember scooching sideways as the rain did the same and misted me a bit.)
“But Brad,” you may be saying, “isn’t there a chance for sideways rain coming outta nowhere in The Fall, too?”
Right you are, dear reader. No amount of hood would protect my bionic ears from a horizontal deluge. So I choose wisely when it comes to my hiking days, taking care that no ominous thunderclouds are anywhere in sight when I hit the trail. It’s been my experience that sun-showers seem to happen more in the warmer months than in the colder ones. I may be wrong, but my decades on this pale blue dot has given me experience a-plenty to allow me to trust in the hoodie.
But it’s more than just the protective power of a hoodie that allows me to enjoy Fall hikes more. The cooler weather that calls for a hoodie is itself something I enjoy. I run hot. I can work up a sweat faster than a retirement funded by crypto can disappear. A hike in the brisk Fall air buys me more time before I start to sweat. As you may remember from my kavetching about Summer and even Spring, hiking in the heat can be dangerous for my bionic ears.
Water does not play nice with my aids. Sweat is water. I love being able to get miles under my feet before I start to sweat in the Fall. But it’s more than just the sweat that does my bionic ears dirty; it’s the heat. As I get hotter, my aids’ tubing will expand. This malleability is good but the more expanding and contracting they do, the less elastic they become. And the molds, too, become uncomfortable the hotter I get. They start to make my ears itch. In the Fall, this is delayed for quite a bit!
There’s one more, non-hearing related thing that I”d me remiss if I didn’t mention. It’s something I wait all year for. I appreciate the fact that it only happens in one season, because it makes it more special when the time comes around.
Fall Beer Season. (I like what I like, Julie! So you can judge away, see if I care!)
I love a good beer. There are more good Fall beers than any other season. From all the different breweries’ take on oktoberfest to the perhaps embarrassing amount of pumpkin and pumpkin-pie-spiced beers, I have to pay attention to my bank account in the Fall more than any other season. Things can get out of hand quite quickly.
I love it when I can sit around a fire with Cambridge Brewing Company’s The Great Pumpkin Ale, or Southern Tier’s Pumking, or Sam Adams Octoberfest in my hand, my dog in my lap, and my eyes on a clear night sky.
A shout of color.
A moon that often leans in.
Relaxed Fall is here.
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