I could write a book about my experience with this. I did actually write a lot of code for a small company in Dorchester, a stones throw from there, who make a hearing aid testing box and software. I did a Unix shell script to parse the customer's order, and fax a receipt of order, next the picking of parts, then the final assembly stage, bench testing, and shipping with the data to track the shipment. Thus the customer knew every step of the way what was happening.

My poor friend Ian Fraser, who was just so fearful of the total end of his hearing, helped me lots, as did Scot, and others.

Firstly, my hearing is broken, but when they play a tone, I always hear a click too. Supposedly, despite the cost of the headphones, i heard click and raised my hand. A year later after saying I heard the click, she said, no a tone, I said a click. We got rid of the clicks and then my hearing got worse. About 4 notes (12 white keys down) are Broken. I mean they play them and I hear a racoon scratching the roof. Turns out that amplifying those notes wrecks what's left of my upper hearing.

I have a copy of my 'curve', it goes nice and straight across, and then goes down at almost 90 degrees, straight down but for a very small move right. Along with the broken notes. So from 1400 to 1550 or so, a boost gets me a very little. All freq. below 1400 or so are perfect. The rest are really gone. My father is going to get my aids. They help so little and I am afraid to lose them.

I have to use the CC to 'hear' TV. Too much compression. I do not hear if you don't talk TO me. Not away from me, or looking at the floor. I cannot hear my wife in our mini cooper, but I get 50 percent in the Chevy pickup.

I am going to hook up the big EQ I don't use, and the little behringer mixer with some bose phones and see if I can hear the TV that way.

I think at a gig, the in the ear channel moulds, with some sort of signal chain would work ok. Monitors on the floor replaced by those.

Progress has been slow, but the old days are dying hard. Like you used to need to memorize charts, no more. Even the jazz at the Lincoln centre orchestra had written parts for every piece, no extemporization, no fishing for a resolution, just flat out play as rotten as we say. Even the darn drummer had a set out score, which I found crazy and dumb.

So there you have it. I miss Ian's little messages, PM's and emails. We canucks can be an unusual lot, and from where we sit, despite the years of hanging out with each other, there is a common bond in our anthropocentric vision, though some here sense it might be myoptic, but nevertheless, it exists.

My favourite funny of the year was embodied in the Delaware licence plates, where the war of 1812 was won with the rockets red glare. Ian would have laughed his backside off over the shot of that plate I brought back. Our version says the objective was payback for burning Toronto, so the advance party told the Pres and his missus to take a hike, then they torched the place, forcing the painting of it with white paint, thus ever the White House. It was black. Once the boats got to Baltimore the unused ordinance was disposed of, and they sailed off. So the objective stated was to invade Canada and annex it when the Brits were fighting the little French general, it was a matter of marching in said the Pres. Didn't work out so well. But what matters here, is that we were a few pairs of boots short of being a bunch of states. Very close. In the end, the new invention, the rocket, was shot off at Baltimore, and the words were written, in 1813, to a tune sung in masonic lodges of the day, and copied from a drinking song of the day, (i.e., 1750). It took until the WW1 that it really became the adventurous anthem, complete with high notes most folks can only dream of. Beauty eh? so your plates celebrate the war, the win, the words. We spent millions to say we won. I don't know what we won, but it's time to make new powder, I think the yankees are coming!

(Truth be told, the above is a sort of personal tribute to Ian, he and I extolled the virtues of our society, while not bashing anyone, but showing how differing values and points of view were developed despite the commonality of the causes. I think I'm fading now, and it's time to hit the sack, or as my grandfahter used to say, off to p o und my ear.

Good dreams Ian, RIP. Ask Brubeck to teach you Take 5, on the guitar, do it slow for me.

John Conley
Musica est vita