This is a re-post from August of 2014. I remain stubborn.
For at least the last twenty years of her life my mother was hard of hearing. To suggest that it might be time to invest in a hearing aid was to tread on very dangerous ground. She would adamantly refuse to even consider that her hearing wasn't 100% and was insulted her children would promote her use of a device that was "strictly for OLD people." Always true to herself and her stubborn German temperament, she exited the planet at age 89 sans one of "those contraptions."
In our thirties my wife and I began to notice how loud the TV was at Mom and Dad's house. Our kids also grew frustrated at having to repeat themselves for Grandma and Grandpa. Complaints of "actors who mumble" and the lack of proper enunciation by younger Coppers in ordinary conversation was a constant battle. When asked to repeat something--and doing so with a loud and distinct delivery--garnered a retort of, "there's no need to shout." It was the quintessential no win situation. Even my argument comparing hearing aids and eye glasses was unwelcome. Stony silence and a withering glare was the reward for: "You wear glasses to help you see. Why not employ a device that helps you hear?"
Like so many things in life, lately Linda and I find ourselves in deja vu mode. We seem to be saying "What?" and "Huh?"just as our parents did. She accuses me of mumbling under my breath which, to be fair, is a skill honed in snarky adolescence that still serves me well when dealing with authority figures. "Good morning boss!"... (you fat putz). However, these days she is calling me on it even when I'm on my best behavior. To be fair, many times she too sounds like she is mumbling. I'm fairly certain I heard "my mother was right" directed my way just last week. A couple of months ago, I almost missed a flight because I thought she told me the plane was leaving at 6:50 AM instead of the actual departure time of 6:15. (Maybe if I'd looked at the ticket?)
Several years back parties became a challenge. Lip reading is a necessity if I'm to catch much of what anyone has to say in a crowded room. Nodding my head and imagining what the person talking to me looks like naked goes a long way toward making a social event enjoyable. Also, about a year ago we noticed that hitting the Closed Caption button on the TV remote makes many of the actors less mumbly. It's a Godsend when viewing all those limey epics on PBS. Neither of us would have a clue about Masterpiece Classic without the wonderful CC option.
Perhaps it's time to make an appointment to see a doctor about one of those smaller than ever hearing aids. Or, maybe you could just pipe down and toss me the remote so that I can turn the volume up to mach 10. I'll be hitting the CC button too. The damn actors are mumbling again and hearing aids are for OLD PEOPLE!
(Five years later I'm still a holdout.)
For at least the last twenty years of her life my mother was hard of hearing. To suggest that it might be time to invest in a hearing aid was to tread on very dangerous ground. She would adamantly refuse to even consider that her hearing wasn't 100% and was insulted her children would promote her use of a device that was "strictly for OLD people." Always true to herself and her stubborn German temperament, she exited the planet at age 89 sans one of "those contraptions."
In our thirties my wife and I began to notice how loud the TV was at Mom and Dad's house. Our kids also grew frustrated at having to repeat themselves for Grandma and Grandpa. Complaints of "actors who mumble" and the lack of proper enunciation by younger Coppers in ordinary conversation was a constant battle. When asked to repeat something--and doing so with a loud and distinct delivery--garnered a retort of, "there's no need to shout." It was the quintessential no win situation. Even my argument comparing hearing aids and eye glasses was unwelcome. Stony silence and a withering glare was the reward for: "You wear glasses to help you see. Why not employ a device that helps you hear?"
Like so many things in life, lately Linda and I find ourselves in deja vu mode. We seem to be saying "What?" and "Huh?"just as our parents did. She accuses me of mumbling under my breath which, to be fair, is a skill honed in snarky adolescence that still serves me well when dealing with authority figures. "Good morning boss!"... (you fat putz). However, these days she is calling me on it even when I'm on my best behavior. To be fair, many times she too sounds like she is mumbling. I'm fairly certain I heard "my mother was right" directed my way just last week. A couple of months ago, I almost missed a flight because I thought she told me the plane was leaving at 6:50 AM instead of the actual departure time of 6:15. (Maybe if I'd looked at the ticket?)
Several years back parties became a challenge. Lip reading is a necessity if I'm to catch much of what anyone has to say in a crowded room. Nodding my head and imagining what the person talking to me looks like naked goes a long way toward making a social event enjoyable. Also, about a year ago we noticed that hitting the Closed Caption button on the TV remote makes many of the actors less mumbly. It's a Godsend when viewing all those limey epics on PBS. Neither of us would have a clue about Masterpiece Classic without the wonderful CC option.
Perhaps it's time to make an appointment to see a doctor about one of those smaller than ever hearing aids. Or, maybe you could just pipe down and toss me the remote so that I can turn the volume up to mach 10. I'll be hitting the CC button too. The damn actors are mumbling again and hearing aids are for OLD PEOPLE!
(Five years later I'm still a holdout.)
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