Sounds Like a Racket

I've been wearing hearing aids for a week. I'd like to say that it's been a revelation, because I can listen to the sounds of nature again, or an orchestra's full range. And I don't have to turn up the TV volume and irritate others in the household.

But it's been a modest let-down. I can hear the seatbelt rubbing against the upholstery and the crackling of cellophane, prevalent this time of year. Water flowing through the pipes and heated air forced through the ducts are much louder. At commercial establishments the decibel level of the Muzak is sometimes painful, and I have to turn off the equipment.

I am remembering a childhood that wasn't so great, when I had to cover my ears at the airport or when a marching band passed by.

The technology is more advanced than I had expected. The inserts are small, light, and pick up the frequencies that I cannot hear. The 36-hour battery life is impressive. The remote control doubles as a bluetooth intermediary between the hearing aids and the iPhone, obviating the need for the AirPods (Apple's wireless earbuds).

The cost of $3,000--most of which is not reimbursable by insurance--is quite steep in the world of consumer electronics, though I understand it's about half the cost that people paid a few years ago for old technology.

Well, hearing aids are preserving neural cells, except that no one told me that they are not in the brain's pleasure centers.