I pretty much can't hear anything the first time it's said. "Wait - what?" is perhaps the statement that most frequently comes out of my mouth. And yes, I clean my ears out on a regular basis (I love Q-tips).
None of this is surprising considering the fact that I come from a long line of people who also cannot hear and, therefore, shout as they talk to compensate for it. (Interesting side note: I am extremely sensitive to noise. I hate hate hate loud stuff, screeching stuff, and bass makes me beyond miserable.)
Despite my genetic disposition to crappy hearing, yesterday's chiropractic experience will demonstrate how important good aural . In fact, protecting your hearing could be a means of protecting your health in general.
At the point at which our PSA commences, I was laying on my back while Dr. L., who was behind me, stretched the mucles in my neck and rubbed out knots there. We were discussing his eldest son's college plans, which will probably involve Pitt-Johnstown for the first two years. Here's how I thought the conversation went:
Me: Why won't he just go to Pitt main the whole time [in Oakland]?
Dr. L: Oh, he'd hate it down there.
Me: Why?! It's awesome. I bet he'd like it.
Dr. L: No, he would hate it. His favorite thing to do is go fly fishing.
Me: What?! Where am I?!
Dr. L: You're in moral America.
Me: Don't give me that Republican crap!
Here's how the conversation actually continued:
Dr. L: I said rural America!
Me: Oh! I thought you said moral America! . . . This isn't rural America! We're 45 minutes outside of the city. This is super gun land, but it's not rural!
Dr. L: I live on a farm!
Me: Oh, whatever.
I sit here writing a blog post, unscathed by this event - which continued to get even more political on my end, although dear Dr. L., like a good business owner, abstained from political discussion on the job - but aware that things could have gone differently. Off the top of my head, I can think of two unfortunate fates that could have easily befallen me:
1. Incensed, Dr. L. could have snapped my neck in .2 seconds. All this would have required is twisting my head a little harder and a little farther to the right or left.
2. A swarm of gun-bearing locals could have converged on the chiropractic office, busted down the door (or simply pulled it open), and captured me for the purposes of torture.
Neither of these sounds very pleasant. Perhaps this is why Brad - whose hearing is minorly better than mine and who could hear the conversation from the other room where he was on the Spinalator - when he saw me, said quietly and quickly in shock/dismay, "You can't say 'Republican crap' in public!"
Oh, but I did.
Besides, if anyone had openly minded (well, actually, if there'd been anyone there to openly mind - the place was empty), I could have just put my hand to my hear, scrunched up my face, leaned forward, and said, "Huh? I can't hear you."