I Hear Nothing
I'm not exactly sure how this happened, since lunchtime conversation at work usually features such stimulating topics as patent law, the economics of newspapers, and sugary drink tax policy, but earlier this month I was chatting with some co-workers over lunch about the Jonas Brothers. I found out that 1) there are three of them, 2) they are in fact brothers, and 3) they do in fact have the last name Jonas. (I also found out there's a "bonus Jonas," a much younger fourth brother whose music chops may exceed his older sibs.)
When I claimed I had never heard them sing, a co-worker of mine couldn't believe it. "Of course you have," as if their ubiquity made it darn near impossible for me to avoid hearing them. And yet: I don't have cable, I don't watch TV (save for blitzing through sports games), I don't listen to the radio, I don't own an iPod, and the few times I watch video clips online it is with the volume off. So when would I have ever heard the Jonas Brothers sing?
Missing out on pop culture is one thing, but I fear my "no audio intake" has deeper consequences. It took me forever to learn how to say Nicolas Sarkozy's last name correctly, I couldn't tell you what Michael Steele's or Rahm Emanuel's voice sounds like, and there's a lot of really good podcasts and music that I'm less enriched as a person for not having time or access to.
But, introvert that I am, and cluttered that my life is, I think I'll accept this diminution in my quality of life. There's nothing like, after a long day of dealing with kids and dealing with work, the serenity of sinking into bed with a good book and a whole lot of quiet. Silence, in my life, is in fact golden. Even if I'm still left to wonder what the Jonas Brothers sound like.