Having needed glasses for near-sightedness since I was eight years old – a disaster for a tomboy – I consoled myself on my ability to hear well. Hearing is the one sense I am sensitive about, and protecting it is the sensible thing to do.
I am relieved to say that at a recent hearing test, I passed with flying colors. Typically, people my age have some hearing loss, enough to even warrant a hearing aid. Why then do the musicians at simchas think that louder is better, that explosive noise enhances? When people sitting next to each other have to yell in order to have a conversation; when the person sitting inches away keeps on asking you to repeat what you just said – which usually is a request to repeat what (s)he just said – then the music is way too loud and even risky to one’s health. It is stressful to have to repeat yourself. Many just give up.
Chances are that the members of the band think they are impressing their audience with their talent by equating ear-splitting with “cool.” In a misguided attempt to win over fans and potential bookings, they blast their music. But their reasoning is totally off. If anything, they are ruining their reputations and a chance to get hired by attendees who are planning their own simchas.
For the guests do not hear music – they hear noise. And if the baalei simcha allow this noise to continue, then they are ruining their own simcha. When they are asked, “So how was the wedding?” it is very likely they will be told how beautiful the kallah looked and how horribly loud the music was.
The only people who enjoy loud music are those who are already hearing-impaired. For them, the music is at a level that they can hear well.
Unless the musicians have day jobs selling hearing aids, I can’t imagine why they play music that can damage eardrums. Not to mention that they are ruining their own hearing as well.
Not everybody dances as soon as the music starts up. People want to continue their schmoozing, especially since simchas tend to bring people together who have lost touch or whose paths rarely cross during their day to day activities. For many, it’s a chance to catch up on each other’s lives. And they don’t want to get hoarse doing it!
Since I take care to look my best at simchas, I am rather annoyed at having to walk around with my fingers in my ears (and my elbows up in the air.) I find myself admiring those guests who had the foresight to bring earplugs – as several do. (For any young entrepreneurs out there – instead of a lemonade stand, think about selling cotton balls on the sidewalk in front of the simcha hall.)
If the host of the simcha knows that the band will likely play loud music in spite of their request not to – a selection of ear-protectors in the middle of each table – the kind you wear at shooting ranges – may be a more appreciated option than a floral centerpiece.
The bottom line is that music can make or break a wedding. Of course, the food and its service are also a big factor in how lovely the guests will perceive the affair to be. But the ability to enjoy and participate in dancing and socializing with friends and relatives is the key to its success. Music that is too loud is like scalding soup. It hurts. And the pain takes your focus off the simcha and onto your discomfort. When a guest is in distress, then the simcha is no longer a simcha.
When one’s shoes are too tight, they can be removed. However, the only way to relieve oneself from destructive, painful noise/music is to actually distance yourself from it by leaving the ballroom and standing in the hallway or leaving earlier than planned.
This is not fair to the guests who made the effort to come and share in the family’s joy. It is not fair to the baalei simcha to have their beautiful affair prematurely emptied of guests.
Ear shattering, guest-chasing “music” at my simcha? I wouldn’t hear of it!
