Chapter 1: Life in Santa Monica

My Danish husband and I reside in a charming city that connects to a larger metropolis. It’s a unique place where Los Angeles meets the ocean—Santa Monica. This city is equipped with its own city hall, police force, and fire department, along with pedestrian-friendly sidewalks and improved bike lanes. Plus, we have various shops and eateries within easy walking distance.

We chose to live here due to our aversion to driving and the need for quality public schools for my Danish stepdaughters. Although housing prices in Santa Monica rank among the highest in the nation, we managed to score a decent deal during the pandemic, allowing us to stay put.

The allure of the ocean is undeniable, even if getting there involves crossing a busy highway and navigating past a few individuals experiencing homelessness. That’s the reality of Santa Monica.

Despite the exorbitant costs associated with everything from housing to dining and even preschool for our two-year-olds, I wake up each day convincing myself that I cherish this place and that I’m fortunate to call it home. That is, until I venture outside.

No matter how far you travel across the country, the noise seems to follow you.

I have a deep appreciation for the U.S. and all it has offered me, but at this point in my life, I have one simple request: can everything and everyone just be quiet for a moment?

Yesterday, we visited a local mall that was part indoor, part outdoor. The music was blaring at such a volume that I couldn't even hear my husband’s complaints about it. They had taken their usual background soundtrack to new extremes by hiring an outlandish DJ to play jarring tunes for the shoppers.

It was intolerable. We promptly left.

What’s so wrong with silence, I ask? Does it provoke thought? Are you afraid of your own mind? A mentally healthy individual should be able to shop without needing artificial stimulation. If that’s not the case, consider seeking professional help.

I strolled to a farmer’s market on a Saturday morning, feeling drained yet trying to soak in the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the surrounding plants. Until, suddenly, a loud car zoomed by, drowning me in the cacophony of its obnoxious exhaust.

And then came another. And yet another.

By the time I arrived at the farmer's market, I was drenched in sweat and anxiety.

Why is there a need for some to showcase their 'coolness' by being the loudest person around? And why does this country have such an obsession with noisy vehicles?

A well-adjusted individual should navigate their day without needing to prove anything to anyone. Just how many insecure and unhinged individuals populate America?

Today, I walked my daughter to preschool and made my way home, fighting back tears as a first-time mother witnessing her child’s growth. I tried to count my blessings and maintain a smile.

That is, until a garbage truck screeched to a halt beside me, shaking the trash cans with a noise so piercing it felt unbearable. It moved back and forth, beeping and shrieking, as if to taunt me.

I found myself back at square one: anxious and frustrated.

During a summer spent in England, I marveled at how they managed to collect rubbish so quietly. “So there is a civilized way to do it?” I thought.

Fortunately, our windows face an alley that overlooks the back of a retirement home, so garbage and delivery trucks frequently visit, even on Saturdays.

Then there’s a homeless man living in a crack in the wall across from my stepdaughter’s window, who yells at his imagined foes every night.

Needless to say, we keep our windows shut throughout the day.

It would be unfortunate if we actually had any fresh air outside. But in Los Angeles, that’s not a pressing concern.

And wait, there’s more.

The much-admired Tesla brand decided to install a “Tesla Supercharger” at the end of our alley.

I never thought I could develop a dislike for a car brand until this summer.

Initially, it was merely an inconvenience, but soon the noise started—an unbearable daily din that never fails to set my nerves on edge.

But hey, what are a few months of my life if it means the affluent can charge their electric cars?

Ironically, most Angelenos seem indifferent to environmental issues.

If you want to witness true green initiatives, visit Copenhagen, where bicycles reign supreme over cars. Or London, where you must pay to drive into the city and can even receive a fine for idling your engine.

Let’s focus on enhancing public transport instead of building car chargers. Duh.

But then, where would the people of Los Angeles brush their teeth if not in their vehicles?

To ensure comprehensive noise pollution, the building next door has been undertaking seemingly pointless renovations for three months, occasionally waking us up. I remained silent—until today. The sound of metal drilling, which we’ve endured for a week, startled me on an already rough day.

After a brief exchange with a worker regarding the timeline for these “improvements,” I was told off. Ah, the classic American response.

This weekend, my Danish husband suggested installing honking buttons at Santa Monica intersections “in case things get too quiet.”

Because people here certainly enjoy a good honk.

I wish I could tell you this is just a bad day (which it is). However, if a beach-side city in the U.S. requires this much noise just to get through the day, it reflects poorly on the nation.

Do most people genuinely not know any better?

Stay classy, Santa Monica.

The first video titled "SHUT THE HELL UP - YouTube" presents a humorous take on the frustrations surrounding noise in everyday life, mirroring the sentiments expressed above.

The second video titled "Shut the Hell Up - YouTube" continues the discussion on the overwhelming noise culture, emphasizing the need for quieter living spaces.