My ear plugs are my travel companion and a crucial device that allows me to create an asocial mobile work situation. In other words, I use ear plugs to create my private work space in public transport. Since I am commuting to work by train and become easily distracted by voices and even music, I depend on ear plugs to concentrate on what happens in my head and on my screen.
In fact, as I am writing this text on the train to work, two passengers in my direct vicinity are speaking on their phones. One privately but publicly talks to a friend. The other is working, too, and I cannot help but notice that there seems to be a marketing issue in their company that apparently needs to be fixed right now.
Luckily, I no longer get upset about this open-plan office atmosphere in public trains. I just fiddle my ear plugs out of their box and turn them as deep as I can into my ear.
It is probably fair to say that through my commuting, I have formed an attachment with earplugs – a quite asocial attachment. They protect me from the sound waves that emanate from my co-passengers, sound waves that convey information that I cannot not process, that I cannot ignore. My ear plugging allows me to detach myself from this real-world situation and indulge in my mobile work configuration. The amplitude of voice waves is turned down so that I can focus on my laptop screen which is the other indispensable device in this configuration. (I don’t really mind the electromagnetic waves that emanate from my laptop).
What I find most remarkable about my ear plug attachment, to speak with Antoine Hennion (2001), is that I have become a real earplug amateur – a mixture of expert and lover. On the one hand, I know which ear plugs suit me best. I prefer lumps of neon yellow silicone or rose-coloured wax. I stopped using the cheap foam cones as they irritate the skin inside my ears and make it itch for hours. On the other hand, I miss them and get nervous when I don’t have them with me to detach myself from my co-passengers. When I last forgot my cherished device, I developed serious symptoms of withdrawal, and the waves of voices in my train compartment resounded even louder in my head than they actually were.
Hennion, A. (2001). Music Lovers: Taste as Performance. Theory, Culture & Society, 18(5), 1-22.