Here’s to some civilised shush
Remarkably, it starts slowly. The opening theme song to the hit TV comedy The Big Bang Theory has a lot of ground to cover as it seeks to communicate the passage of time from that cosmos-forming event to modern day life. Sure enough, it accelerates spectacularly. Kaleidoscopically. Blindingly.
In just 21 seconds it assails the viewer with 109, arguably 110, images.
You could, if you like, call the viewing experience stimulating but you surely wouldn’t want to spend much longer in its company.
And that’s just in 2D, which means it gives the rest of us only a pallid intimation of real-life bombardments that so often descend upon people with autism, neurological or anxiety issues.
Even those who simply ache for a break from the babble and commercial environments where the very notion of a ‘‘vibrant’’ experience is taken to belligerent extremes.
So can we have a muted but sincere round of applause to supermarkets that are toning down the noise, the brightness, the gratuitous hustle and bustle, for a regular hour of blessed relief.
Countdown can take credit for pressing forward with this initiative, offering hours where the aisle lights are dimmed, the piped music and promotional television screens are turned off, checkout volumes are lowered, trolley collection and shelf stocking are kept to a minimum, and if there’s a single PA announcement you’ll not begrudge it because it will be for an emergency.
This is a civilised initiative and one which pilot programmes have shown to be appreciated by a substantial section of the public who savour a lower-stressed experience when they undertake life’s little chores.
Life is increasingly bombastic.
How many would agree with actor Hugh Grant who from the auditorium of a recent cinema screening of the film Joker tweeted his displeasure at the ‘‘unendurable’’ volume of the sound system?
Happily some New Zealand cinemas have been experimenting with more sensory-friendly light and volume settings.
How many of us are forever adjusting the volumes of our household TVs because the ads come at us with shoutier volumes than the programmes they interrupt?
How many of us shudder in the sonic wake of passing cars with thunderous sound systems?
Cars whose occupants, we cheerfully remind ourselves, are unknowingly enjoying a back-to-thewomb experience in which the music replicates the mother’s heartbeat, the bucket seats return them to foetal positions and often, regrettably, alcohol is their amniotic fluid. (So by all means let them know they’re just being momma’s boys. See how you get on.)
There are times when in the course of living our lives we do want our visuals dramatic, our soundtracks to rise to a crescendo, and our nerve endings to tingle. But not as the ambient sights and soundscapes of our lives.
We’ll never be a society of Trappist monks, but there’s no reason for us to be living inside an arcade game.
Toning things down a tad is an approach that has a lot to commend it.
This is a civilised initiative and one which pilot programmes have shown to be appreciated by [those] who savour a lower-stressed experience when they undertake life’s little chores.