NOTICE

64 R.J. GODLEWSKI/INERT
Later, about the time that I had reached my
third warship, my insistence upon protecting my
precious eyeglasses dissipated with maturation.
Sweat could be wiped off, dirt could be cleaned off,
and scratches, well, nobody had yet invented a
practical way of keeping scratches off of eyeglass
lenses anyway. So I wore my glasses just like
everyone else. But my ears still remained in
perfect – and tuned – operating condition.
When we began to lose a generator on my
new ship I was able to inform the machinist mates
long before their own instruments informed them
of the changes. I heard the generators winding
down; the unmistakable change in pitch from
turbines that were slowing. Sure enough, the
generators eventually tripped offline and the
machinists, who were responsible for the
mechanical elements, were sent scurrying to
secure them before major damage occurred while a
‘simple’ electrician smiled with that trademark “I
told you so!” smirk of his.
To develop this same trait within yourself, I
suggest spending some time going around your
home blindfolded. Just sit quietly on the sofa if
you’re not convinced. Before you realize it, your
own ears will begin to detect sounds and noises
(there’s a difference between the two!) that you
never thought possible. That capability may save
your life someday more than punching through
bricks or two-by-sixes.