A resident who has lived in the same city neighborhood for 57 years has voiced a passionate plea against the relentless noise pollution from karaoke singing, which has severely disrupted the peace during the recent Christmas season.
The Disappearing Tribe of Manners
The author, writing on December 27, 2025, contrasts the present with the pre-karaoke era and even the 1980s when the activity first became popular. People once had manners, boundaries, and respect for their neighbors, traits the writer now finds surprisingly rare, especially among those under 40. They describe encountering someone with such consideration as akin to meeting a member of an endangered species—a person who understands that freedom has limits and values being alive over "going live" every single moment.
A Season of Suffering, Not Merriment
While acknowledging the season's spirit, the resident details the excessive disturbance. The problem wasn't a single Christmas party but what felt like one held every night for two weeks. The non-stop singing, often tragically off-key, filled many nights and early mornings. The noise only seemed to grow louder and more deliberately projected, with no regard for whether anyone wanted to hear it. The author's household, suffering through the entire season, doubts they were alone in their misery, as no applause for the performers was heard from other homes.
The Core Message: Rights Come with Responsibility
The commentary ignited a family conversation about personal rights versus communal peace. The writer admits to owning a karaoke machine "a lifetime ago" and discovering their own lack of singing talent—but crucially, they did not impose it on the neighborhood. The central argument is clear: everyone has the right to sing, but with the responsibility not to disturb others. When singing is heard outside one's private space, it becomes a disturbance. The author's personal motto encapsulates this: "I don't sing because I know better."
The piece concludes with a hope for the new year of 2026: that it brings the wisdom to know when to sing and, more importantly, when to stop, so that no one else must suffer. This heartfelt rant from a long-term resident underscores a growing urban conflict between personal expression and the collective right to peace and quiet.
