If I were asked to list three things that annoy me most in today's world, I could blurt them out in an eye blink.  They are NOISE, NOISE, NOISE!  Maybe I'm just getting old and crotchety, which I feel is one of impending old age's privileges, but there are times I get so riled - to the point that I want to move to some remote hideaway, where the only sounds are the breezes rustling through the leaves of trees, birds chattering, a stream bubbling over rocks - all the soothing, refreshing murmurs of nature. 

            Am I being too critical, too fussy, when I moan and groan that every summer weekend seems to be shattered by the staccato, resonant putt, putt, putt of power mowers, trimming shears, and other beastly gas or electric monsters that, aside from causing my normally sweet tempered self to be not so sweet, purport to wax and polish automobiles, trim trees, spray insecticides and a host of other domestic activities? 

            It seems the more we advance as a civilization, the more noise we make.  Gone are the days of rags, buckets of soapy water, simple hedge shears and lawn mowers you just push and just plain old elbow grease.  Gone as well - the days of summer serenity with just the various melodies of nature lulling us into a state of well-being.   

            And, what about autumn and those early Saturday morning wake-up calls of the amplified buzzing of leaf blowers?  And just where does the leaf-blower bloke think that the leaf blower is going to blow the leaves?  I'll tell you where:  my yard.  And winter - the leaf blower is exiled and out comes the snow blower, and have you noticed?  All blower operators are wearing ear plugs.  Now, what does that tell you? 

             I know, I really do sound crochety.  I also know noise is inevitable, unavoidable - some of it, not all.  What comes to mind are car radios and CD's blasting out at mind destroying levels, usually hard rock, or what I choose to call hard "rot."  No semblance of melody or lyricism, just pain producing percussion and a lot of yelling, which is considered to be singing. 

            And don't even get me started on cell phones.  The cell phone user apparently doesn't give a hoot about his or her privacy, but what about mine - or any of us?  Do we really want to know what should be private to the caller . . . that so and so ran off with another so and so?  That Mrs. so and so had another hang-over?  Oh, please!  Spare us!!! 

            So there is tyranny afoot:  The tyranny of noise.  An invasion of sorts.  A personal right is being infringed upon:  The right not to be bombarded by a cacophony of sounds. 

            Well now, let me confess.  This whole outcry has been more or less tongue-in-cheek.  You just can't stop progress, and we wouldn't want to.  I just wish that progress were a little less noisy.  Nevertheless, heaven bless the person who invents a device that is able to silence noise before it hits the ears (other than ear plugs).  Then all of us crotchety, complaining folks can complain about something else.