The Yonge/Eglinton neighbourhood is undergoing major redevelopment and there’s no escaping the noise, even here at home. Here at home, In fact, is often the noisiest place of all, for not only is there a condo going up right outside my window, our balconies are being demolished with jackhammers to make way for new ones.


The noise and vibrations from this, if you don’t take precautions, can seriously damage both your hearing and your teeth, so, during the worst stretches, I’ve, till recently, been biting down on a rolled-up washcloth and sticking my thumbs in my ears, which was doing the job. But there’s nothing quite like sitting around with your thumbs in your ears to get you thinking of alternatives and, the other day, I thought of a really good one—I rolled up an old towel lengthwise, bit down on the middle, and tied the ends behind my head in such a way as to cover my ears. This worked like a charm—as well as muffling the noise and cushioned my teeth, it freed my hands, and, despite the jack-hammering, I actually managed to get a few things done. 


The flaws in my really good alternative became evident only after the jackhammering stopped for the day and I discovered I couldn’t get the towel off my head—that, not only had I tied my long silver locks into the knot, I’d secured the towel so snugly around my head, I couldn’t even work it free of my mouth. Making matters worse, the more I struggled with it, the tighter it seemed to become.


I had two options—I could either cut my way free with scissors or have a neighbour untie the knot. The towel and I had been through thick and thin together, so the choice was easy. I put on my shoes and off I went.


The first door I knocked on, an angry man shouted, “WHO’S THERE?” He sounded angry, anyway. Unable to answer, I waited a bit, but he didn’t come to the door and I hadn’t the courage to knock a second time, so that was that.


The next two doors, the people pretended they weren’t home, but, at the first, I saw movement behind the peep hole and, at the second, soon as I knocked, a blaring television went suddenly silent. Could they not see I needed help? I might be a kidnap victim escaping his captor!


Three doors and I was already thinking of packing it in, but I decided to give it one last try.


This time, an elderly lady in a pink housecoat opened the door part-way and, peering at me over the top of her glasses, said, “Oh my! Aren’t you the scary one!” and handed me three candy kisses and a box of raisins. I’d forgotten it was Halloween. I gripped and tugged at the towel and probably sounded like a madman. She threw her hands up, pretending to be terrified, then laughed and closed the door.


On the way back to my apartment, it occurred to me that I should have made a sign to hold up and that I still could if I wanted. But what I wanted more was to get this thing off my head and, soon as I was in the door, I gathered up what scissors I had and headed for the bathroom.


Freeing my mouth was easy enough—a few snips with the kitchen shears and I was done. The mess on the back of my head, however, was a whole other matter and, unable to see what I was doing most of the time, I really did a number on my hair and, by the final snip, had reduced my towel to little more than a washcloth.


I was of a mind, by now, to scrap the towel idea altogether, but that would have been a mistake. When you execute a good idea badly, you don’t scrap the idea, you improve the execution. Right? So that’s what I’ve been doing. For one thing, I wear a hairnet now. And, yesterday, I began stuffing sock balls between the towel and my ears to further muffle the noise. And I’ve another idea just came to me this morning that I’m especially keen to try out, but It’s raining today and the jackhammer crew doesn't work when it’s raining, so I’ll have to wait. I’m glad, now, I didn’t throw out those chopsticks.

coping with it
coping with it