...except for me and my monkey! "Everything we see hides another thing. We always want to see what is hidden by what we see." -Rene Magritte

Monday, December 06, 2004

I got ninety-nine problems but offensive music ain't one

When I went to the gym this evening, I was heartened to see a sign that had been posted by the attendant's desk: "Regarding Music at Pamplin Sports Center: The content and volume of music played at PSC is at the discretion the gym attendant. Music must be appropriate to PSC. If you can't play it on the radio, it shouldn't be playing at PSC!!!"

I hope this doesn't come across as all pearl-clutching FCC-ish, but the music they've been playing at the gym really has made me uncomfortable several times, but I've never been sure what to say. I mean, sometimes it's not so bad: I didn't love the Milkshake song, but it was never more than just mildly annoying; same with that gigolo one that played all last year. But some of them? The song that's on the radio now, with the refrain or hook or whatever it's called that goes "I got ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain't one?" That does offend me, as does a song that includes the N-word. What's worse is that often the music is playing so loudly that there's no escaping it: even unobjectionable songs become oppressive when they're playing so loudly that I can't clearly hear my own music coming out of my headphones which are right next to my own ears with the volume turned all the way up. I often take reading with me to the gym, as do a lot of other people, and it makes it so hard to concentrate when the speakers are about fall right off the walls.

Also, the desk where the attendant controls the radio station and the volume is all the way at the front of the gym; the weight machines and cardiovascular equipment that I use are at the back, so there's no way to go up to the desk and ask them to please turn down the music without losing all the calories and stuff that I've already done. I've thought about writing a letter to the gym staff addressing my concerns, but I always chickened out.

The point is, apparently someone else was uncomfortable as well, or the management realized that the situation was not ideal. I just hope it gets better, because if I have to listen to that "I got ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain't one" song again, at a volume that rivals a space-shuttle take-off? Well, I don't know what I'd do. But I wouldn't be happy, I can tell you that.