Car Radio
COVID-19 April 20, 2020
It's Hitler's birthday; why should anyone care? It's his death we should celebrate. And this is one example of the contrariness of humans.
I rested peacefully in my bed this morning. After several nights of fitful sleep, wondering and worrying about a virus break-out in Puerto Vallarta. Would there be enough hospital beds and respirators, or is it possible these people have developed stronger immunities in their DNA that I shouldn't worry over? Last night, I'd finally had a good night's rest. I first woke to see the clock showed 6:00 a.m. It was conceivable that I could enjoy a few more minutes of relaxation and perhaps fall further into a bit more REM. But that shortly settled.
Someone, either oblivious or spiteful, a contrary soul by nature, deemed to push the extremes of his car's sound system upon his fellow man. At 6:00 a.m., wouldn't everyone in the mostly quiet neighborhood of Amapas enjoy his enjoyment? For that misguided assumption, I'm not sure he didn't turn it up a notch higher as he drove his car, windows down, up the steep, winding hairpin corners of the cobblestone street, where noises often have a canyon echo quality. On wet days, the sounds a car can make with road slippage from bad tires and gear changes are enough to compel you to the window to speculate on the ensuing success or failure of the driver's efforts on his way up the road. When that happens in the morning, it is understandable. Not everyone can afford new tires. But this is about contrariness, not poverty.
This morning, this fellow--and I say that because here in Mexico, I've yet to see a woman driving a car to a construction site this early--seems to lack any kernel of concern. Women may be driving to a bank or an office job, but that would be more likely around 9:00. I know many women here don't like to drive. But, on the off chance it was a woman, she would, in my opinion, have the sense to turn her radio down as she drove through a quiet neighborhood this early in the morning, even if for the consideration of not waking someone's sleeping baby. A woman's contrariness involves other issues.
But this guy seems to have a chip on his shoulder. I believe it as I hear the loud pulsing sound of the ump-pa-pa of the base and the pounding, repetitive noise of the unusually happy, high-toned song containing ludicrous lyrics. The flow of it is encouraged along by an accordion or some other annoying instrument to emphasize its ridiculousness. Okay, I'll give him this; maybe he's just a happy guy. He has a job in the middle of a pandemic. That's a good thing, but what makes him want to wake up the rest of the world on his way to work? I believe it's contrariness. It can't be that he is frightened by a dark jungle illumined by his headlights. Perhaps he doesn't like the way it creeps around the hillside around the edges of the condos. Or could it be, I pause to think, that noise brings him some comfort in a mostly silent COVID-19 world? Or maybe it's just a way of saying out loud, 'Come on! Wake up! Come alive. I'm here, and you're here, wake up, the day is here, too. You've slept enough, and I'm deciding!'
But still, I'm left awake to consider the likelihood of it being anything else but contrariness. I conclude that it is, and eventually, the man is happily on his way.