Now ‘Ear This

Last evening, after a delicious al fresco meal on the veranda, I decided it was time to try out the Listening Chair, Mordecai’s latest gift to me (to make up for abandoning ship when the police arrived after our misguided celebration of Memorial Day involving our cannon and fireworks).

I sat in the thing – which is surprisingly comfortable – and, per Mordecai’s instructions, merely closed my eyes and attempted to empty my mind. The Listening Chair, you see, will intuit what your body needs to hear and will play it for you.

I quelled my misgivings (history, like the MoodPaper, does not make one calm in a Listening Chair) and attempted to clear my mind. Bubo nestled into my lap. As I calmed my breathing, I decided I would make Sun Tea today before the scheduled thunderstorm hit.

I felt a slight pressure on my forehead and was inundated with the sounds of bat sonar.

Unfamiliar with bat sonar? I, of course, have a number of bats that nest in the upper eaves of this old house, so I am quite familiar with the sounds of echolocation. It was decidedly not what I thought I needed to hear. Listening Chair Bat Sonar

What would you do if that were being blasted into your ears? Exactly. I stood up, or rather, I attempted to stand up. It seems that the Listening Chair, not only decides what you need to hear but also decides how long you need to hear it. The chair had snaked itself around my person, like clinging vines or a kraken.

I listened to the bat sonar chirps for a good hour before all the bats in the house descended upon the parlor. Bubo was desperately biting the chair’s arms while I wrestled within its grip. The live bats created more of a racket and after another 40 minutes the chair loosened its hold.

I tumbled onto the carpet and the live bats fled into the night. Mordecai was in the front room with head phones on, listening to Schubert. Charles murmured an apology and I stormed onto the streets of Brooklyn for some aural respite.

I shall place the Listening Chair in Mordecai’s room (which is covered in MoodPaper). I can only imagine what the chair deems necessary for my brother’s ears.

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