It’s Fleet Week here in San Francisco, which means that the Blue Angels have been flying overhead for a few hours over the last couple of days. I’m pretty much used to it by now, having always had a perfect viewing platform away from the public (read: one of our rooms!), so it’s just a few hours’ worth of loud each day. [Back during the Former Day Job, there were plenty of moments when I had to pause a conversation during a client call and say “Sorry about that, the Blue Angels just flew over. As you were saying?”]
Does this sort of thing bother me when I’m writing? Not at all. I spent most of my childhood and adult life in a busy house and I currently live in a major US city, so I’m quite used to it. In fact, it’s part of why I’m constantly listening to music; the tunes give me something to focus on so the erratic white noise of planes and whatnot don’t register all that much. I will let myself occasionally be distracted by the air show, especially when they’re flying close by, because why not? It’s fun and it’s only once a year!
Now, hearing the impossibly loud Recology garbage trucks idling and crunching and compacting and clonking outside our building at six in the morning, on the other hand…
Welcome to Bridgetown 