Safety: What are you hearing?

That's not a Princess Leia hairdo, honest!

Someone at work made a comment that in a lot of my remodeling action photos, I'm wearing hearing protection. It's not just because I think I look so darn manly / macho in my bad-ass, bright-yellow 'muffs. (and I certainly do!) It's because I truly think hearing loss is serious business. You loose it and you don't get it back. Some of our saws, nail-guns, and the sort are just stupid loud. Plus, I like to hear my tunes while I'm working, rather than that ringing in my ears following the savage aural ripping fury of a circular saw.

Listen,..do you smell something?

   - Dr. Ray Stantz, Ghostbuster

The earliest I recall being exposed to potential hearing damage was when I won tickets to a Lynyrd Skynyrd  concert at my High School graduation party. Mind you, I was not the Classic Rock aficionado that you find before you today; being from suburban Detroit, I had no idea who these guys were. After arriving at the show, we were: A.) the only teenagers, B.) in the only 4 wheeled (non-Harley) vehicle, and C.) not wearing black leather, we were greeted by the unfurling of the largest Confederate flag I'd ever seen at the back of the stage, "uhhhhhhhh...ohhhhh" ( remember - we were in suburban Detroit, waaaay before I lived in the deep South). What followed was actually an awesome concert, but LOUD! I remember my buddies and I having to yell our conversation afterwards; the other late night denizens of Denny's, (breakfast served 24 hours, were not pleased). My ears were still ringing the next morning. A couple years later, I think an Edgar Winter concert may have actually made my ears bleed with his outstanding Frankenstein.

"Nah - Nah! I'm not listening to Daddy!"

"Still not listening!!!"

My sweet wife's hearing is damaged, permanently, most likely due to getting horribly sick while traveling, in her mid-twenties. She does fine, but hearing aids are not fun or cheap, and they don't give you anywhere near 100% of your hearing back. I know that when we become shriveled, little old people, together in our old age, eating applesauce and peas, I'm going to be the ears; she's going to be the eyes. So, I wear the dorky ear-lids. It's not too bad, I just wear them when working around the house on my projects, not jogging around the neighborhood,... or posting pictures of myself wearing them,... on the internet,... for thousands to see me look like a gump...

Both of our kids have always seem to be extra sensitive to loud noises. Gracie started grabbing my earmuffs from the garage when we vacuumed, ran the stand mixer in the kitchen, or anytime I used power tools. I ended up wearing those pain-in-the-butt, little foam inserts so she could have them. She never put them away. Jack started wearing them when he got old enough to run the popcorn air-popper. He'd leave them out on the kitchen counter.

There's several stories here.

I finally bought a couple of those cheap red ones from Habor Freight, specifically for the kids. They probably won't last too long, but they are inexpensive enough at $2.99, that I can replace them, no sweat. They love each having their own pair when we're all working out in the shop together.

I slip on the ol' earmuffs with the table saw, the circular saw, the framing nailer, and the air compressor, especially if I'm working with the garage door closed when it just seems louder. The tool that really got me in the habit was my first table saw, a direct drive Delta, that was louder than a heartbroken banshee. I finally sold it after I bought the Shopsmith, because I didn't use it all that much and I simply hated that horrendous scream.

I've not been abusive to my ears, but like almost everyone, I been around loud stuff throughout my life: power tools, aircraft, racecars, concerts, etc. Still, when it's quiet I hear that ringing. It's enough.