Blitkrieged by the Oldies
I've always been intrigued by reports in the media of the military using loud music, mostly heavy metal, to try to break the wills of their prey, whether it's prisoners from Iraq or those detained at Camp X-Ray in Cuba. They used it in Panama with Noriega and in Waco with the Davidians, and I'm sure they've done it countless other times as well with varying amounts of success. Well, it came as a surprise today when I was assigned, in my second day of a temporary assignment, to work at a computer, the only available one, next to the head secretary, on the second floor, in a financial consulting firm. Since where we're working is out of the view of the public and no clients are coming and going, there's a somewhat more realized attitude that pervades the second floor. How this secretary exercises her freedom is to have her radio on all day. It just so happens that the radio stays on the same station all day as well, an oldies station.

Now, I'm not an ardent opponent of the oldies, far from it. I like a lot of "classic" tunes, and I heard quite a few of them today as I typed away at my project. However, no one should have to be subjected to this prolonged exposure to a station most likely heard in dentist's or doctor's offices. When you're there, you're only bound to have to stay for a finite period of time, and most people realize that and thus have little or no reaction towards whatever music is playing around them. It's all background noise, and that's better, I guess, than dead silence that's only disrupted by those who are brave enough to deign it acceptable to hold a hushed conversation. In fact, I'm sure that's the only purpose this music serves in this situation as well, background noise, but this just goes on and on for hours, exposure to which, I'm sure, can result in some serious neurological damage as well as sudden homicidal impulses.

I sat there quietly praying that she'd change the channel to anything, preferably NPR, but no such luck. Just about on the verge of tears. I heard her shuffling around and shutting things off, getting ready to leave for the day. "Oh, thank you, Lord," I said to myself. The music was off, and I was done listening to the likes of the Temptations, Martha & The Vendellas, and Bob Seger. I was even scheming, planning a way to turn the dial to something else after she left. It was all for naught, though. As she exited, I looked at the clock. It was 4:57. I was done at 5:00. So much for escaping the likes of the 5th Dimension in favor of "All Things Considered." I was a broken man, and I knew the worst part was that tomorrow it would all start over again. Trapped in the 50s, 60s, and 70s.