On my way to work I pass a garbage truck whose driver is laying on the horn. He is trying to persuade someone illegally parked to move so that trash barrels can be accessed. This barely registers. An impatient minivan driver who can’t be bothered to park, get out of the vehicle, and knock on the door of the person she is picking up blasts the horn repeatedly. Crossing Broad and Capitol, someone honks impatiently as I cross the street during the pedestrian light phase I waited forever to get. In Bushnell Park, DPW workers are yet again attacking the landscape with leaf blowers. I missed the moment when old fashioned and nearly silent rakes fell out of fashion, but here we are. People using leaf blowers are probably part of the reason why folks are using leaf blowers in January. Back out on the street, I wait to cross while bass from someone’s stereo system rattles their car windows. Standard, all of this. On some days, there are street preachers using amps; others simply yell at passersby, including one who interrupts my phone conversation to essentially call me a sinner as he holds a sign saying something about “trying love.”
Of the sound clouds I pass through on the average day, those created by street musicians are the least bothersome, even if I may not personally care for their playing or song choice or in some cases, screaming outside a drugstore.
It’s not at all surprising that noise complaints were called in on the trombonist at Main and Asylum. This is the same city in which residents griped about the volume of music played at Bushnell Park’s seasonal ice rink.
I’ll be the first to admit, without apology, that I like my personal space to be quiet. For that reason, I chose to live (1) outside of downtown (2) not above or next to a bar (3) without roommates. But at the same time, I chose to live in an urban area, which means that I will be hearing sounds besides tumbleweeds and school buses. There are environments which I have less control over, and those include the ones in which I work. I’ve had a few weeks during which nearby construction entirely drowned out face-to-face communication. I’ve been in spaces where shitty acoustics mean that two or three exuberant people are made to sound like hundreds. When possible, I pop in my earbuds and remove the background noise with music of my choosing. I’d love for a world in which everyone bowed down to my sound preferences, but I understand that this is not realistic. The thought of calling in a noise complaint during daylight hours has never occurred to me, no matter how personally irritated I might be.
But speaking of work, to get there I usually take the bus. Because we have an inefficient system, meaning that my bus only comes once an hour, I arrive to the stop early because if I miss that bus, I can’t afford the Uber ride. And, because that bus is often 5-10 minutes late, this means I spend a good amount of time, several mornings each week, standing outside of 750 Main Street. Here, I am subjected to the ongoing noise of traffic — brakes, horns, and those automated bus announcements. Not once have I been able to hear the trombonist from this location — it is rare I can hear the harmonica player, and he sets up on the same block.
The recent arrest of a busking trombonist illustrates how it is possible for everyone along the way to share fault.
First, the person who called in the seven complaints needs to chill. This individual has been identified by HPD as Charles Wareham, owner of Valark Financial, which is housed in 750 Main Street. By the report, it appears that he was the only individual waging these complaints, and he did this so often that it appears more like targeted harassment than a genuine noise complaint. Wareham, sir, you are in a city. It’s not a big city or an exceptionally awesome city, but it’s a city. The noise was not produced in the 10 PM – 6 AM time frame. You are in an office building in downtown Hartford — not by a hospital or convalescent home where a quieter environment would be a show of respect.
Secondly, the police response — even if the numbers were due to a nearby training session — was bonkers. You can have additional law enforcement or supervisors make an appearance without creating a scene that is completely disproportionate to the alleged crime. I’ve seen fewer cops respond to domestic incidents in the Frog Hollow neighborhood. It would go a long way to sharpen up protocols so that police in situations that do not involve knives, guns, or other deadly weapons convey that information when calling for backup. I respect that police encounter dangerous people, but I also believe cops are intelligent enough to differentiate between a person who is cussing and kicking a car door, and someone who is reaching for a ceramic kitchen knife.
I also believe police are smart enough to determine what kind of response is needed. Wareham has the right to call in all the noise complaints he wants, but the police can investigate and decide if there is even an issue that needs to be enforced. At some point, could HPD tell Wareham that additional calls he makes will be construed as personal harassment? Because I have to wonder how anyone can hear this instrument inside of a building — in winter, when windows are closed — one block away, when I have literally never heard this same sound outside of the building where the complaints originated. When we constantly hear how overworked our police force is, why spend our few precious resources on a daytime noise gripe instead of on any number of other problems: traffic enforcement, personal violence, etc?
Thirdly, the musician could have responded without that level of drama, but he was right to be angry. When you are aware of all the actual problems facing Hartford and when day-after-day you are feeling dumped on, it might not be wrong to use salty language.
Everyone shares some responsibility here, but make no mistake that this all could have been avoided if those in power told the chronic complainer that he is choosing to work in an urban area where a level of noise is expected during regular waking hours.
*Sad Trombone*
On my way to work I pass a garbage truck whose driver is laying on the horn. He is trying to persuade someone illegally parked to move so that trash barrels can be accessed. This barely registers. An impatient minivan driver who can’t be bothered to park, get out of the vehicle, and knock on the door of the person she is picking up blasts the horn repeatedly. Crossing Broad and Capitol, someone honks impatiently as I cross the street during the pedestrian light phase I waited forever to get. In Bushnell Park, DPW workers are yet again attacking the landscape with leaf blowers. I missed the moment when old fashioned and nearly silent rakes fell out of fashion, but here we are. People using leaf blowers are probably part of the reason why folks are using leaf blowers in January. Back out on the street, I wait to cross while bass from someone’s stereo system rattles their car windows. Standard, all of this. On some days, there are street preachers using amps; others simply yell at passersby, including one who interrupts my phone conversation to essentially call me a sinner as he holds a sign saying something about “trying love.”
Of the sound clouds I pass through on the average day, those created by street musicians are the least bothersome, even if I may not personally care for their playing or song choice or in some cases, screaming outside a drugstore.
It’s not at all surprising that noise complaints were called in on the trombonist at Main and Asylum. This is the same city in which residents griped about the volume of music played at Bushnell Park’s seasonal ice rink.
I’ll be the first to admit, without apology, that I like my personal space to be quiet. For that reason, I chose to live (1) outside of downtown (2) not above or next to a bar (3) without roommates. But at the same time, I chose to live in an urban area, which means that I will be hearing sounds besides tumbleweeds and school buses. There are environments which I have less control over, and those include the ones in which I work. I’ve had a few weeks during which nearby construction entirely drowned out face-to-face communication. I’ve been in spaces where shitty acoustics mean that two or three exuberant people are made to sound like hundreds. When possible, I pop in my earbuds and remove the background noise with music of my choosing. I’d love for a world in which everyone bowed down to my sound preferences, but I understand that this is not realistic. The thought of calling in a noise complaint during daylight hours has never occurred to me, no matter how personally irritated I might be.
But speaking of work, to get there I usually take the bus. Because we have an inefficient system, meaning that my bus only comes once an hour, I arrive to the stop early because if I miss that bus, I can’t afford the Uber ride. And, because that bus is often 5-10 minutes late, this means I spend a good amount of time, several mornings each week, standing outside of 750 Main Street. Here, I am subjected to the ongoing noise of traffic — brakes, horns, and those automated bus announcements. Not once have I been able to hear the trombonist from this location — it is rare I can hear the harmonica player, and he sets up on the same block.
The recent arrest of a busking trombonist illustrates how it is possible for everyone along the way to share fault.
First, the person who called in the seven complaints needs to chill. This individual has been identified by HPD as Charles Wareham, owner of Valark Financial, which is housed in 750 Main Street. By the report, it appears that he was the only individual waging these complaints, and he did this so often that it appears more like targeted harassment than a genuine noise complaint. Wareham, sir, you are in a city. It’s not a big city or an exceptionally awesome city, but it’s a city. The noise was not produced in the 10 PM – 6 AM time frame. You are in an office building in downtown Hartford — not by a hospital or convalescent home where a quieter environment would be a show of respect.
Secondly, the police response — even if the numbers were due to a nearby training session — was bonkers. You can have additional law enforcement or supervisors make an appearance without creating a scene that is completely disproportionate to the alleged crime. I’ve seen fewer cops respond to domestic incidents in the Frog Hollow neighborhood. It would go a long way to sharpen up protocols so that police in situations that do not involve knives, guns, or other deadly weapons convey that information when calling for backup. I respect that police encounter dangerous people, but I also believe cops are intelligent enough to differentiate between a person who is cussing and kicking a car door, and someone who is reaching for a ceramic kitchen knife.
I also believe police are smart enough to determine what kind of response is needed. Wareham has the right to call in all the noise complaints he wants, but the police can investigate and decide if there is even an issue that needs to be enforced. At some point, could HPD tell Wareham that additional calls he makes will be construed as personal harassment? Because I have to wonder how anyone can hear this instrument inside of a building — in winter, when windows are closed — one block away, when I have literally never heard this same sound outside of the building where the complaints originated. When we constantly hear how overworked our police force is, why spend our few precious resources on a daytime noise gripe instead of on any number of other problems: traffic enforcement, personal violence, etc?
Thirdly, the musician could have responded without that level of drama, but he was right to be angry. When you are aware of all the actual problems facing Hartford and when day-after-day you are feeling dumped on, it might not be wrong to use salty language.
Everyone shares some responsibility here, but make no mistake that this all could have been avoided if those in power told the chronic complainer that he is choosing to work in an urban area where a level of noise is expected during regular waking hours.
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