Comedian Billy Connolly: “And then there was my mate who’d just been fitted with a brand new hearing aid. ‘It’s the best in the world’, he said. ‘What type is it?’ I asked, and he said ‘10 past 12’.”
And so it came to pass, that on the 75th anniversary of my birth into a farming family replete with the beloved sounds of a lost childhood: mooing Jerseys, squealing Landrace, demented Heelers, pounding milking machine engine, shrieking flying foxes, Mum singing hymns in the cow yard, that I presented myself to the dreaded sound-proof room where the menacing hearing aids lurked in silence, waiting to be hooked over, stuck up your ear. (Be careful with that last bit, we’re talking ears here.)
I had become tired in my old age, with ears fully occupied with anti Covid masks and spectacles, of looping the little sign over my left ear, surreptitiously advising the yelling world, without making a fuss, that it (the ear) was TEMPORARILY OUT OF ORDER, as you sometimes see on petrol bowsers.
I on my part had also become frustrated at the number of people who got their handicaps confused, when they saw my “ear out of order” sign, like the waitress who spelled it out and then asked me with exaggerated kindness: “Would you like me to bring you the menu in Braille, sir?” (Now you know this didn’t happen, of course. I don’t know any waitresses. I just found it on the internet.)
But I did see on the brochure that hearing aids are so advanced these days that you can choose to have yours connected to Blue Tooth. I never knew loss of hearing had anything to do with the dentist, but I’m not surprised. Dentists give me petrified ears.
It’s not all gloom. Loss of hearing can also be accepted as a charitable gift by someone with whom you’re having an argument.
After you’ve said “what?” three times, then just smiled and nodded, people think that by their wonderful logic they have convinced you. It’s your gift to them, makes them feel good.
As my wife and I have grown old and blissfully deaf together, there have been many moments of great hilarity when a question from one of us resulted in an answer from the other that bore no resemblance to the original question. “How much was in the rain gauge?” “No, she’s not my age!”
The internet again provided me with a good example of this. She: “I think you need a hearing test!” He: “Why do I need a hairy chest?”
It’s so easy to mishear the original question. You’ve heard politicians being interviewed.
They must all attend the same course at Communication School entitled “How to tell a journalist, not what she asked, but what you wanted her to hear (and tell the world)”.
Sad really, all those highly skilled articulate people in need of hearing aids, in a single occupation.
And like the different brands of diesel that issues from the same refinery, the different brands of political salespersons all start to sound the same after a while.
There are different kinds of hearing loss, different ways of acquiring it, and different ways of responding to it.
Of the three wise monkeys there was one who could “hear no evil”, like a certain Queensland leader who once declared that “there are no prostitutes in Queensland!”
It’s called “hearing by delusion”. People who can’t hear anything at all are said to have “profound deafness.” I’m not sure what’s actually profound about it, though we all know that getting the “silent treatment” can be more effective that being yelled at.
Selective hearing is acquired over time by most husbands. One hears what one wants to hear, or deems to be just enough to hear, without getting into trouble.
It can take quite a long time to hone the skill of selective hearing.
Once acquired, one must remain forever vigilant so one does not forget exactly what sounds one has a problem hearing, lest she cotton on to the ruse.
Then there is congenital hearing loss. Congenital means it comes at birth. I can verify this.
Every time one of our children was born, I could hear them less and less in the middle of the night. It also seemed to affect the function of the nose.
Blowed if I could smell a full nappy when it happened. All those functions of the male parental head appear to work together.
That’s why they send us to ear, nose, and throat specialists. Luckily it doesn’t affect the eyes. The babies still look OK.
Hearing aids aren’t cheap. They are tiny, and fiddly in ever less dexterous hands.
One must be careful.
They are easily dropped.
They can be whipped out of a receptive ear by an anti Covid mask, or a spectacle shank.
An old friend of ours dropped his on the floor. The family dog thought it was a tit-bit, pounced on it and ate it.
The batteries should not be eaten by dogs. Do you really want to hear the magnified sounds of whatever is brewing in a dog’s stomach?
An old farmer told me once that when he had his cataracts done he could “see all these cows in my paddock I didn’t know I had!”
Most of us make noises that only become sound when we first get hearing aids. I never knew my left ankle cracks when I walk.
The sound of a fingernail clipper is SO loud! I can remember a quote that went something like this: “I used to think I was passing gas silently in church until I got my hearing aid!”
Dear Family: You can all stop yelling at me now. I’ve got a hearing aid.