Silence, please!

COREY FORD

Hints to the Noise Abatement Commission in their drive to make New York quieter, if not funnier

The Noise Abatement Commission of New York is holding meetings, this month, at City Hall, to determine ways and means of reducing New York City's noise, so that the public will be able to think. What the public will think about, after the noise is all gone, is a matter that will be taken up by the Commission at next month's meetings.

According to Major Curran, Chairman of the Noise Abatement Commission of New York (which we shall refer to hereafter as the "Noise Commission") there are ten outstanding noises in New York. (Just how Major Curran was ever able to hear the other nine is not quite clear.) First, says the Major, is the unnecessary use of automobile horns. Next comes the noise of ashcans and garbage cans dragged along concrete sidewalks at four in the morning. Following these nuisances, in order, the Major lists loose-jointed trucks, newspaper vendors calling extras, pneumatic drills, street-cars with square wheels, elevated trains, riveting, low-flying airplanes, and receptions to Trans-Atlantic flyers. The omission of radio crooners from his list, the Major explained, was due to the fact that radio crooners do not produce a noise so much as they do a feeling of acute nausea in the pit of the stomach, and therefore should come more properly under the jurisdiction of the Department of Sanitation.

It is Major Curran's hope in time to eliminate these ten outstanding noise nuisances from the hubbub and hurly-burly of Manhattan's busy marts of trade. If his current drive is successful, the Major fondly believes that all these very objectionable noises will be reduced to mere murmurs. As a result, he feels, we should all be able to distinguish ten brand-new objectionable noises that we have not been able to hear up to now.

After considerable research, conducted by the scientists of the Noise Commission in sound-proof laboratories, the members have just about concluded that there is only one good method of getting rid of the noise in New York City:

Remove all the noise from the citv. This could be done by the invention of silencing devices, such as rubber garbage cans (as

well as rubber sidewalks, rubber garbage collectors, and rubber garbage), radiohatchets, and noiseless saxophone's for use in street bands. In addition, Dr. McAnkle of the Commission is working on a new invention to fasten steel girders together in the future by means of knitting needles and kindergarten worsted.

If all these methods fail, moreover, the Major has a last resort upon which to fall back. This method is to create a lot of new noises, so that all the old noises would be drowned out. In this emergency, the Major feels .that the forthcoming 1936 Presidential campaign should be of inestimable value. Once the political speakers open up, he is confident, all these other objectionable noises will be practically inaudible.

In any proper investigation of the best methods of eliminating noise, of course, it is only sensible to determine just what constitutes Noise itself. Noise, it seems, is transmitted by a series of Sound Waves, which are similar to the waves of the ocean, except that there are no grapefruit rinds floating on top of them. Representing the sound on a chart as Y, therefore, let us say that Y advances from the source, g. in what is known as a "simple harmonic train", or one making no stops at Melrose Avenue or Fordham, and is conveyed forward along the route to the ear by a series of longitudinal loops like a scenic railway. which, needless to say, it enjoys hugely. This sound Y then joins 0 at U, forming Y-O-U, I love you. (Unstinted applause.)

In the meantime, the ear, E. has separated this complex vibration Y-O-U into its simple harmonic parts, according to Ohm's Law. Before this Law was passed, these component parts had to be separated by the formula V n, which was very similar to the old-fashioned cream-separator, and took almost twice as long.

Upon reaching the ear. E, the Sound now proceeds directly to the highly sensitized tympanum, where it establishes a contact. Once this contact is established, and the tympanum seems genuinely interested in the proposition, the sound wires back to its main office in Cleveland for further instructions. It is then transferred from the tympanum through the ossicles to the perilymph, where it gets completely balled up, wanders around and around the tympanic cavity looking for a

policeman, and eventually takes the stachian Tube to Hoboken, changes in its confusion to a Northbound Express, and shoots rapidly out the other ear before it discovers its mistake.

By this time the owner of both ears has gotten tired of waiting and has gone to sleep.

Armed with this invaluable information, therefore, the only remaining problem for the Noise Commission is to discover which noise nuisance to attack first. For this purpose', a secret meeting of the Commission was called recently to select Public Noise Number One. Present at this meeting, in addition to Major Curran, were two otologists named Mink, who were slightly deaf; Professor Femur McAnkle; a research engineer named PfefTcr; and a timid little figure in a grey suit seated in a far corner, sucking the handle of his umbrella.

Let us tiptoe quietly into this secret meeting of the Noise Commission:

CHAIRMAN Ci'RRAN (rapping for order with a gavel made of rubber): Silence, please!

MR. MINK: What did he say?

MR. MINK (his brother) : What?

MR. MINK: I can t hear you.

MR. MINK (his brother): What did you say?

BOTH: Louder!

CHAIRMAN CURRAN (rapping for order again) : Gentlemen of the Noise Abatement Commission, there is one important point on which we have not yet agreed. That is, which Noise Nuisance should we attack first? To determine this, then, I have invited a typical resident of New York to attend our meeting today, and he has kindly consented to let us use him as the subject of a few easy tests. Mr. Geemer!

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(Mr. Geemer rises timidly and walks forward, glancing nervously at the eager Committee.) Now, Mr. Geemer, will you please remove your shirt?

MR. MINK (in a whisper) : I can't hear a word that he says.

MR. MINK (his brother) : What did you say?

MR. MINK (raising his voice) : What?

BOTH: Louder!

CHAIRMAN CURRAN (He fastens a rubber tube on Mr. Geemer s arm, as though for taking blood-pressure; places a thermometer in his mouth; and straps a large megaphone to his ear.) : Mr. Geemer, you have lived in New York all your life. What sort of noise would you say annoys you most?

MR. GEEMER (with an ingratiating smile) : Why, I don't exactly know of any kind that really you might say precisely—

CHAIRMAN CURRAN (suddenly) : How about this? (He starts a pneumatic riveter going in the megaphone beside Mr. Geemer's ear.)

MR. GEEMER (nodding pleasantly) : Ah, yes. Rivets. I like rivets.

PROF. MCANKLE: HOW about this? (He seizes a French horn and squeezes it with a loud oo—ee—uh—ee!)

MR. GEEMER (mildly) : I like sirens better.

PFEFFER (fiendishly): All right! How about this? ( takes a tin ashcan, bangs it with a stick, kicks it. drops it, and yells "Ashman! Ashman!")

MR. GEEMER (covering a yawn with an apologetic smile) : That always makes me just a little drowsy.

(The Members of the Commission halt and stare at each other hopelessly. There is a complete silence. Suddenly Mr. Geemer stirs restlessly, his lips twitch, his hands grab the side of the chair.)

MR. GEEMER (screaming abruptly) : STOP IT!

CHAIRMAN CURRAN: What's the matter?

MR. GEEMER (struggling) : This silence! I can't hear it! Make some noise! anything! I can't stand this terrible quiet! I can't. . . I can't. . .

(He collapses sobbing.)