I'M SORRY ... COULD YOU REPEAT THAT?

Growing up, my mother had one rule. And that was simply "Turn that (fill in random expletive) music down!!"

Y'see ... being a typical teenager, the louder the music was, the more I could enjoy it. It wasn't so much the music itself as it was the fact that I could make the veins in Mom's neck and forehead stick out when I cranked the music up. Which was one of my greatest joys in life at the time. It goes without saying...I was easily amused. Give me a jar of paste and you wouldn't see me the rest of the day.

Today, I'm paying for it. I no longer listen to music loud because I want to. I listen to music loud because I HAVE to. And it's Mom that's getting the perverted thrill out of seeing a family member angry and confused (Uncle Bob's family ain't the Cleavers in case you haven't figured that little gem out yet).

And now...at 38 ... I am hard of hearing.

I don't have to wear a hearing aid yet. In fact, I passed the last hearing test that I took a few years ago with flying colors. I was pretty disappointed, because I KNOW that I can't hear as well as I used to, but I'll be damned if I couldn't hear those little "pings" in the headphones during the test like a dog having a dog whistle blown in its ear. Looking back, I probably should have sat there like Rain Man, staring straight ahead and shooting my right hand up into the air like a rocket every two seconds just to prove my point.

Even though I can blame my hearing loss on the loud music growing up, there are two instances that I can pinpoint that gave me the hearing of a 114-year-old.

FIRST, being a club deejay throughout the majority of my 20s probably wasn't the smartest career choice I could have made. And hindsight being 20/20, sitting directly behind a huge speaker, eight hours a night for seven years straight may not have been as beneficial to my hearing as say...oh...earplugs.

SECOND, the United Way's Hank Schmitt.

Yes Hank...I blame you for my hearing loss.

Hank worked for the pop radio station BAM 99 back in the 80s, when the station held a "Loudest Car Stereo in Montgomery" contest.

Hank was in charge of finding a judge for the contest. I, being a deejay in one of the loudest clubs in town at the time, was his logical choice.

At the time I said "Sure Hank. Sounds like fun."

Uh-huh. So does sticking your finger in an electrical socket to get a "cool little shock". That doesn't mean I'm licking my pinky and cramming it into the wall for kicks.

The night of the contest, I was given a decibel meter and was then ushered into 42 cars.

With the windows up.

And the stereo's volume on 11.

At first, it wasn't so bad. I sat in the seat and pretended to like whatever was testing the limits of our sanity at the time by bobbing my head back and forth.

By the end, I was depressed and disoriented. I truly believed that Hank was my red-headed high school girlfriend and he was making me want to cry.

I remember one rule of the contest....the music did NOT have to be clear. I wasn't judging on clarity. I was judging on LOUDNESS.

Which meant...nothing but that crap you hear coming out of the cars of teens these days. Solid bass and distortion.

With the windows UP.

I'm not sure, but I think that was the last time the Loudest Car Stereo in Montgomery Contest was held.

Probably because they couldn't find anyone stupid enough to judge it.

Although, if I recall, Hank tried to call and ask me to do it again the following year.

But I never heard the phone ring.