Essay: Noisy Restaurant Necessitates Bobblehead Doll Responses

The trigger for today's essay was a little thing, but it followed a big thing so it became meaningful. Included in the paperwork for a new endodontist I was referred to recently was the low key question of the type of music I'd like to hear while under their care. I checked off "the 60's" and forgot about it. As I snugged into the orthodontist's chair, however, "Surfin USA" followed by other Beach Boys’ hits played gently in the background and made me smile and relax. In contrast, a couple days later, my wife and I joined dear friends for dinner at the trendy, relatively new restaurant, Callie, in the East Village of downtown San Diego. We had arrived shortly after 5 p.m. on a weekday evening, which was good because conversations were still possible. But by the time our dinner selections were being made, the animated and elevated voices of hundreds of guests and their parties made it impossible to hear--much less understand--one another. Indeed, the noise was so loud the server did not entirely get the selections straight, and he was an excellent server otherwise. We all departed Callie thinking “I'll never return to a place so noisy that we could not enjoy a decent conversation.” When we dropped off the couple at their high rise in downtown San Diego, the woman looked me in the eye and asked: "The whole time I was talking to you, were you just smiling and nodding your head to agree with me? Being candid, I admitted to being a bobblehead, to which she replied, "Oh well, it wasn't important anyway." I don't for a minute agree her conversation was not important, but neither would I fake it and say I heard every word. Comparing the two situations, it is interesting that my memory of what could have been an unpleasant experience at the endodontist’s office-- being x-rayed and responding to "open wide" instructions in preparation for a root canal—instead is a pleasant one of a concert of light-hearted Beach Boys’ hit songs. At Callie, on the other hand, even assuming I would have liked the music if I could have heard it over the noise of guests, my primary memories are negatives: acting like a bobblehead and not being able to hear virtually anything our friends said. The food and service were outstanding. It is not just a shame but also a lost opportunity for Callie. Good restaurants can still promote a noisy vibe if their "hip" younger guests like to shout over high-volume background noise. But why not bifurcate the public areas and soundproof or deaden space for tables, for those preferring or needing quieter environments to enjoy? This solution is about a mile short of brilliant, I realize, so read on. In relating our displeasure with Callie to other friends over the last few days, almost to a person (all 70+years of age) they cited high decibel levels in restaurants as a genuine "pet peeve". I am going to explore a pair of ideas that struck me as I was re-reading either the fourth or fifth draft of this current essay. I’ve lost track of the number of drafts, but like the ideas they elicited, if I do say so myself. They would allow our little foursome to return to Callie and enjoy the evenings-- our conversations, AND the food and service. Tune in for the next essay, which might feature these ideas if I can’t poke too many holes in them myself. As always, I welcome your feedback. End of essay. ........................................................................................................... I'd like to send kudos in two directions today. 1. To good Samaritans everywhere. My wife has bad knees. When she expects to be walking any distance, if I am not with her, she takes her walker. But when we go out together, we often bring a wheelchair. I confess it comes as somewhat of a surprise and maybe it shouldn’t, but it’s also a heartwarming experience: That is, women as well as men, young (including teenagers) as well as old, and in every instance all complete strangers, offer to help my wife load groceries into her car when she’s alone. And offer to give me a break while they take over the wheelchair, pushing uphill, braking downhill or even strolling leisurely on flat ground. Kudos and much appreciation to each and every one of those good Samaritans! 2. To our son, John Riedy, who is an extraordinary professional photographer and equally exceptional writer. He recently added a call to action (my terminology) to his Facebook page. In effect, he urges everyone to boycott products made in Russia or manufactured in Russia when purchasing anything on Amazon, for example. While it might not be easy to determine the percentage of a product made or manufactured in Russia, any effort in that direction will create a learning curve and improve the quality of information fairly quickly. An alternative approach is included in his ideas, that being to encourage purchases of products made in countries allied with the United States. I applaud his vision and commitment. His suggestions are feasible and powerful. Mark Riedy March 11, 2022