There was the shoe phone concealed in Max's loafer. There was Agent 99's version hidden in her nail, so it looked like she was just nervous and nibbling on it when she was talking. There was the camera concealed in a bowl of soup ("Cream of Technicolor") and the laser weapon hidden in a button on Max's sports jacket (the "laser blazer").
But my favorite gadget from the 1965 TV Show "Get Smart" was the Cone of Silence. When the Chief had something sensitive to discuss, Max always insisted that they needed protection from prying ears. "Lower the Cone of Silence" went the command, after which two transparent plastic hemispheres came down over them to prevent conversations from being overheard. Of course, they couldn't hear each other, and someone outside the Cone had to repeat what each was saying. After a while the Chief usually gave up and shouted "Raise the Cone of Silence!" It was later augmented by the Umbrella of Silence, the Portable Cone of Silence (two plastic bubble helmets with a pipe between them) and the Closet of Silence.
These days a little quiet would be nice. Cell phones have made it so that there is literally no place that half a conversation isn't intruding on our space. For sure many callers talk louder, on the assumption that their side of the call has to be heard above any environmental interference. In fact that increase in volume is usually not needed and might even make the situation worse. Modern cell phones have all kinds of noise cancellation capabilities built in on both ends, and talking at a normal level is usually the best practice to being heard correctly.
Beyond volume, the biggest annoyance with hearing half a conversation is that you unconsciously try and recreate the other half. Rather than being able to ignore two people talking, your brain tries to puzzle out the side you can't hear. Think of your brain as doing what ChatGPT does: taking the last words, and trying to figure out the next few. If you hear "Well, what should I pick up?" you race to fill in the blank. Milk? Dry cleaning? Sally? You never get an answer, just another question: "OK, and then where should we meet?" Same conundrum again, same no resolution. No wonder it pisses us off: it's a game we can't win.
Short of having a Cone for ourselves or a portable one to stick other people in, there is little one can do. On some railroads there are quiet cars, wherein riders are asked not to chat. Unfortunately, that service was largely curtailed during the pandemic when ridership was down, and many haven't come back. Airplanes are still a "no call" zone, but that's mostly about the amount of limited stable bandwidth accessible when traveling at 500 miles an hour. One worries that if they ever figure that puzzle out, and they will, you'll be stuck elbow to elbow in a cylinder for 3 hours with 200 people fighting with customer service over their missing delivery of cat litter.
When that comes to pass, we have to hope there will be a requirement for users to employ a device like the one being developed by Skyted. Created by aerospace professionals, it packs the noise absorption technology used in jet engines into a face mask that looks like the front of a Darth Vader helmet. It connects to your phone, and muffles your side of the conversation to outsiders by 80%. You might get more than a few looks from your seatmates, but when you wear it none of them will be able to listen in as you reschedule the plumber for the third time. Of course, that's for you: you'd have to hold down other offenders and strap this to their face, which might not go over so well.
A personal closing note. As an individual whose job entails trying to speak softly in the back of the room while a performance is going on up front, I have been admonished thousands of times to "keep it down." I try, I really do, but sometimes the situation gets the better of me. I would be quite willing to spring for one of these contraptions if they ever hit the market, my own personal Cone of Silence if you will. You might laugh at how I look, but then the sound you won't hear will be me talking.
-END-
Marc Wollin of Bedford tries to use his indoor voice whenever he can. His column appears weekly via email and online http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/ and https://marcwollin.substack.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.
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