MyThreeDaughters

I used to work at the Sentence and Paragraph Factory with a guy named Jack. Jack was a real pro, got in early, knocked it out, went home. But what I remember about him was what he would put on when it was really time to knuckle down and write.
iPod? Harumph.
Foamy ’90s-era headphones? Don’t kid.
Jack covered the military, and somewhere along the way had acquired a set of the ear covers that the signalmen wear when they wave in jets to land on an aircraft carrier.
Jack strapped those things on.
Now, an editor will walk up to a reporter at any time with a question: When the reporter is typing (an e-mail to her mom), when the reporter is on the phone talking (to his wife about dinner plans), when the reporter has an iPod on (to imply deep concentration).
But clamp on a pair of signalman’s headphones, and it says one thing to an approaching editor: “I’m busy, go away.”
The headphones said it, so Jack didn’t have to.
Which brings me, finally, to tonight’s point. Two good nights out of about eight since we went the “cry it out” route.
The two bigs, the wife and myself are starting to think about getting some of those signalman’s ear covers so we can get some sleep.
Pretty sure that an F-18 Hornet landing on a ship is louder than a screaming baby. But there are times that I wonder.