Stop the Music! Please!

It was when Billy Joel sang to me from a gas pump that I cringed and muttered, “Please stop the music!” Nothing against Billy, but was I supposed to feel good paying $1.60 per gallon because he loves me just the way I am?

To most folks it may seem grinch-like to rant against piped-in music. Still, it has been decades since forced music has been identified with noise pollution, and this apparently arguable problem is getting worse. Long after the Muzak jokes about Led Zeppelin songs performed by the London Strings, the trend persists like a stubborn virus.

The music is everywhere: supermarkets, offices, restaurants, malls, banks, health clubs and ballparks. Speakers drench entire parking lots with music programs. We have let this become institutionalized in public and private venues.

It’s little wonder that teenagers want to “share” their music by rolling down car windows and blasting it away.

You don’t have to hate music to hate the phenomenon. I admit to liking an eclectic pop program at, of all places, the 99 Cents Only Store. Piped music has been allowed to grow up and can now be bland, hip or classy.

The advertisements or subliminals are not the issue, nor is it the Orwellian idea that talk, thought and mood need to be accompanied. I find it sufficient to object just because “they” think their music will make me feel better. What do “they” know about me, my music tastes or what makes me feel better?

For some of us, the solutions range from earplugs to personal headsets. That means we won’t hear the rest of you when you speak, but thanks for sharing. We love you just the way you are.