Super Sensitive

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Super Sensitive.”

Like it or not, we live in a world of energy – audio, visual, odors, and unmeasurable sources of RF – WiFi, TV, radio, cell phones, weather radar, GPS signals, garage door openers, and a host of additional generators. But each fits in only one of five categories.

HEARING: Audio comes from everywhere – car radios at traffic lights, unruffled motorcycles, “jake” brakes from decelerating semi tractor-trailers, stereo systems blasting from a block away, and other sources I have yet to identify.

SMELLING: Other people’s odors, be it the smell of an unwashed body, cheap perfume, the eye-crossing stench of car exhaust, or the smothering cloud of diesel smoke. And farts. But, we all know our own shit doesn’t stink. Really? Ask your spouse.

TASTING: what ever happened to the solitary flavor of a familiar orange or apple? At the supermarket I spotted just-add-water Tea and Honey flavored with Blackberry-Pomegranate. Further down the aisle I discovered Strawberry-Lemonade and then Peach-lemonade. Jelly and Jello are also corrupting flavors that have enough gusto to stand alone.

FEELING: Years ago a seasoned mechanic ran his fingers the length of one cylinder of my disassembled car engine in order judge the amount of wear, calling it taper. Some of today’s music combined with today’s mobile sound systems generate enough bass that its ground waves lead that which is airborne by several seconds. I can feel the approach before I hear it.

SEEING: Of all my senses I have more control over sight. Some folks complain about annoying advertising signs along our roadways, while others find fault with their neighbor’s unmowed yard. My daughter’s neighbor was promoted at his job and rewarded with a company van to drive home. But his HOA issued him a citation, stating the vehicle was too ugly to be seen on the street. I could continue this list until tomorrow, or the day after.

If I were notified that I could keep only one one of my five senses I would choose to preserve my sight. I consider it the most personal and of greater value. If I still have my eyes I can read when I’m too old to do anything can else.

However, if I were notified this morning that I must give up only one of my senses I would choose hearing. I have little defense against the unnecessary sounds I hear. I agree with a father who was nearly deaf. Only after a year of goading did he consent to buying a hearing aid. But after wearing it only one day he removed it and shoved it into a drawer. “I liked it better the other way,” he said.