Sometimes, a personal story is just too implausible (and in this case a tad bit hilarious) to not share on a platform such as my blog here. So, for better or worse, here goes.

My wife has been warning me for ages that my passion for music, especially when blasting it in the car all by myself, will eventually turn me into a deaf or seriously hard-of-hearing individual. Secretly, I guess I assume I’ll just have to turn up the volume to compensate for my fading hearing!

My conviction has always been that certain individuals engage in substance abuse, others are habitual smokers, and some may struggle with alcohol addiction. These people are driven by a deep yearning to discover a sense of joy in their lives, endeavoring to fill the proverbial void they experience for various reasons.

Countless articles, blog posts, and scientific studies highlight the immense benefits of fitness, a balanced diet, fresh air, and other elements considered essential for well-being. For me, endorphins don’t exclusively appear only due to my fitness routine and the level of sweat equity I’m willing to churn up. Instead, it’s always been the joy I find in listening to music.

Whether it was the repetition of the sing-song lines in the book “Riki Tiki Tembo” when I was a five- or six-year-old or “Kiss Me Deadly” by Lita Ford leading up to my wedding day. When rap and hip-hop came into vogue several decades later, I discovered country music was where the “story” songs had gone, reveling in the songs of Kenny Rogers, Garth Brooks and Reba McEntire. Later I would pivot to contemporary Christian music in the form of Jars of Clay, Newsboys, and Rebecca St. James when the messages in Top 40 hits began to be devolve into something I didn’t want my young daughter to gravitate to on a daily basis. Have you ever really listened to the lyrics in Christina Aguilera’s 1999 hit “Genie in a Bottle”?

Today, I enjoy an eclectic mix of everything from Abba to Kendrick Lamar to Deep Purple to Sabrina Carpenter.

To claim that music is a fundamental part of my being would be an understatement. The sheer joy it brings me on a daily basis, whether I’m tending to the yard, picking up a pizza, or simply going for a brisk run, fills my heart with an indescribable elation that will be with me forever and always.

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Ah, but what does all that have to do with my wife’s fear of my going deaf? Several cars ago, we drove a tan Nissan Altima that had a decent stereo, the word “had” being the operative word.

One day, I hopped in the car to head to work and flipped the volume on to listen to something while navigating the path to my workplace. Oddly enough, the sound emanating from the speakers (at least one of them) sounded tinny and definitely not balanced to my ears.

That evening, I returned home and inquired of my wife what was going on with the speakers, learning she’d “accidentally” blown them cranking up the volume and singing at the top of her lungs while running an errand the day before.

Knowing she is a fan of singer-songwriters and 104.1 (our easy listening station here in town), I was very curious what music she was listening to on 104.1 that would literally blow out the sound system. I mean, seriously, how much damage can you do with tunes from Air Supply, Carpenters, Celine Dion, or John Denver?

So, what could she have been rocking out to loud enough to blow the speakers? AC/DC? Black Sabbath? Def Leppard or Judas Priest?

Not exactly.

I know what you’re thinking. There ain’t no way.