At least that’s what it sounds like. I’m hoping it goes away. It’s the end of a long night at Amoeba. The music’s off. Customers have cleared out. I’m heading down the long back hallway in search of a sink to scrub the dirt accumulated from the music DVD section off my fingers. The sounds of the world, all the ambient noise and the hisses and pops and hums of normal life, suddenly fold into a knot and thicken in my left ear. It’s as if a spongy cork has nestled in my ear canal. A metallic hum rises. And although sound diminishes, simple noises scrape my ear drum like nettles. This has never happened to me in such a severe manner. And more than an hour later I’m still hearing it.
Hmm…If HE can live with tinnitus, I suppose I can.
I’m just hoping that this early panic is an overreaction, you know like when you awaken in the middle of the night with a mild stomach-ache convinced that your insides are about to dribble onto the sheets. I mean come on. Pete Townshend played in arenas. I haven’t.
Right?
