Crying children & other modern pollution

By João Lopes Marques (Eesti keel)

This text is about tolerance, or the absolute lack of it. There are few things as bad as going out to our favourite place and, in the next table, we bump into a young baby who cries as loud as possible. We are enjoying the brunch, the music is nice, our company just perfect. Yet... that furious baby! He is so annoyed that prevents us from hedonisticly spend a good time.

Finally the bill comes (not-that-cheap-anymore-as-you-may-know) and we pay for a terrific headache. Yes, I guess this is slightly unfair. And "unfair" is soft: this is nasty. The same applies to a dog that barks too much or just adores to leak your toes while you are finishing the last sip of cappuccino.

"In other words what you are saying is that parents should stay always home, isn't it?", commented Triin who became recently mother of one. I know this is a very cruel image, but from a pure sensorial angle it is an objective aggression. For sure, things get much worse when the children are unstoppable and parents just don't do anything to take over the situation. Some even start screaming and/or beating their children. Wow! This is the moment we all become actors in a Italian neo-realistic movie.

Bear in mind please that I am not talking crisis in the sky. This is very understandable: children need to fly as well and their sensitive ears are the first to feel the pain caused by altitude changes. I bet most of you have already flown with a desperate children in the next seat. However, I also bet this wasn't the best flight you have ever had.

Modern life and the search of hedonism entitled parents to export this domestic chaos to public spaces. It is a small revenge, for sure: nannies are barely affordable and to find a responsible one is a pain in the ass.

I am not a father, as you can already guess. Actually, I woke up for the subject some ten years ago because of a friend. He is a posh gay who loves to indulge himself with nice environments. "There is nothing worse than having to bear others' children", he told me once. "But don't you think you are just being too gay?", I replied then.

Likewise, I was extremely surprised the first time I spent a night in a hotel that forbade children & pets. It was in Cape Cod (Massachusetts) and they were serious on this topic. If you pay some 500 dollars per night, do you want to be disturbed by a small evil? A hypothetical stomachache isn't already risky enough? A sprained ankle?

We all were children once, but the topic raises some ethical considerations from both sides. Should parents feel guilty? Disturbed ones should complain about such a natural and human thing? In the end, common sense has to prevail. Otherwise: would you ever take your noisy offspring to a sophisticated cafe which plays New Age music?; to the late evening cinema session?

One thing is undeniable: after the smoking ban, noise will become the next big thing. There is too much pollution in the air. Thus three solutions are left to a common mortal: a) stay home (from 2 EEK); b) invest in a iPod (from 2000 EEK); c) buy noise blockers for your delicate ears (from 37 EEK).

The good news for the shocked parents is that if such a noise bill is passed it will start by the motards. How can we tolerate a motard parade downtown with such awful bangs-vrums-bangs-vrums produced by their engines and escapes?

You see? Hopefully, things in this cruel world are very relative. Present and future babies — and their respective parents — don't have to panic. No doubt chasing the motards will be the priority. Then we can proceed with damaged CD's, stupid fridges, loud coffee machines, mobile phone ring-tones, disturbing laughters and unnecessary blown horns.

Yes, young devils: you will have another decade to terrorise me.

Comentários

Unknown disse…
What this article amply demonstrates is that only in Estonia, a country increasingly beset by deadbeats and rejects from Al Andalus living out their latin lover fantasies, can a Portuguese sexpat pretending to be a writer actually get his juvenile scribblings published.

Having wasted 10 minutes of my life reading the blog of this annoying refugee from Portugal (that shining star of economic progress), here's my read on Joao Lopes Marques:

Lives in Estonia as this is the only place where women are desperate enough, and their standards low enough, to actually see a talentless hack as some kind of Iberian Hemingway

Mistakenly believes himself to be well-travelled and a man of culture, when in fact he's just an unemployed gypsy on the hunt for Baltic pussy

Hates Estonian men as well as other expat men in Estonia, believing that they are all threatened by the deep, spiritual, renaissance-like paragon of the Portuguese man which he embodies

Has thoughts of leaving Estonia, but accurately realizes that an over-the-hill paycheck slave with no future would not fare well in the real world
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