Over 70 meanings exist for the sequence of letters d,b,a, from the well-known Doing Business As, to the lesser-known Danish Beekeeping Association, to the specific Dentine Bonding Adhesive, as well as the shortcuts popularized on social media: Dumb but Adorable and Don’t Bother Asking. The abbreviation dBA using the lower-case d strictly expresses the intensity of sound as the human ear perceives it.
I avoid noise wherever possible; it gets less possible all the time. Unlike those who need music playing or the background of chatter in a coffee shop to work more effectively, I need silence. From childhood the house was quiet as I did my homework. There was no chaos as in Noises Off and concentrating was easy. The university dorm clamor shocked me, so I sought refuge in the library—when libraries were noticeably quiet. I pursued a degree in Library Science and libraries are still my favorite place, second to the silence of a near empty church—by its very definition, a sanctuary. Imagine my frustration when visiting the Sistine Chapel packed with tourists making plenty of racket. Over a microphone a gentleman entreated the crowd over and over with a trilogy of: “Quiet Please!,” “Silienzio per Favore,” “Ruhig Bitte.” For a long moment I thought he held my dream job—dead-end position that it was.
I won’t take the drastic role of “Rectifier” as Tim Robbins did in the movie, Noise, taking a hammer to any car whose alarm he heard. In New York City, that’s a lot of cars. Of course, we need emergency alarms and sirens to alert us —those are supposed to disrupt, disturb, and call us to action to save ourselves and others from danger.
I have consciously protected my ability to hear all my life— no headphones force-feeding music into my ear canals; no tweeters or even woofers did I own. I have taken ear plugs to the largest football stadiums where when encouraged by the electronic flashing signs to “Get Loud” and “Make Noise,” the crowd uproar reaches a level of 142—louder than a jet taking off! I am not a good sport. My adult children still joke that if the TV was on at all, I was asking them to turn it down. True enough—OFF was my first preference!
Road noise is considered the biggest cause of noise pollution we experience—the expense and effort to build attenuation walls supports that claim. Jackhammers alone come in around 100 dBA. The loudest noise recorded was a volcanic eruption in 1883 on the Indonesian island of Krakatoa—310 in A-weighted decibels! That level of sound literally killed those nearby. Lesser sounds over 120 can immediately harm the ear drums. As a teacher, I often reminded young students to use their ‘inside voices.’ Conversation is around 60 dBA with whispering registering approximately 20. Shouting reaches above 85 on the scale—take it outside please!
The symphonies I love usually produce near 98 dBA. Rock concerts average 100 except for the subgenre of American hardcore rock known as “Noise Rock”. Not to be confused with Kenny Chesney singing “It ain’t nothin’ but noise, can’t take the noise” at a mere 90 dBA.
You won’t find me at a flyover and while I love the ahhh factor of fireworks displays, I can do without the auditory assault of the grand finale.
Though I complain a lot about noise, there are sounds that soothe me: the snowplow clearing the road before I have to go out, the ticking and chime of an antique clock, the coo of a baby, the opening of the garage door as the teen driver returns, rain overnight when the ocean is not available, the squeak of my bed, turning the page in a great book.
The idiom ‘peace and quiet’ refers to “tranquility and freedom from stress or interruptions” ---I’ll take an extra helping of that!
Lilly Kauffman is a non-fiction writer who was privileged to work as both librarian and a teacher. Her essays, whether serious or humorous, capture the experiences that allow us to laugh and grieve. Family and faith inform her writings. She is currently working on several book projects: A Mother Grieves in Ink, Ampersand, and Lil Letters.