Shakespeare's version of Mark Anthony asked for those around him to "lend him their ears", meaning that he wanted them to listen to his speech. I ask Lynn and others near me to lend me their ears, too. I wish I could actually borrow their ears and use them in the way they serve their owners. I test out with adequate hearing for low-pitched sounds but high pitches don't register. I was told several years ago that I could no longer hear sounds in the range that a mosquito makes when he or she is close to my ear. They told me with sad enough faces that I figured there was more to come. There was: initial consonants are pitched quite high, too. I was told that I was going to be missing them. I have been. I have trouble telling whether you said "Sad" or "Pad". One word doesn't may not matter all that much but it can.
The failure to hear well that I am most conscious of actually sounds like garbled speech. A character who matters in a story is leaving the scene, unhappy with what just happened and mutters. At least that is what I hear. Others watching with me hear a message, one that is important to the story. It is a muttered threat or a muttered confession of desire but I don't know what the devil was said. I ask the others "What did he say?" and they tell me. I am almost always glad I did ask and am grateful for the relayed message. It matters to the understanding of the story. Whether I am with family, close friends or strangers, I find asking what was just said results in help, quickly given. I am grateful for the loan of more sensitive cochlea than I have. Hope it doesn't get worse.
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Bill
Main blog: Fear, Fun and Filoz
Main web site: Kirbyvariety
