It seems I have always had a poor sense of sound direction: I could hear a sound, but not be able to determine the source. On a business trip, I was staying at a hotel in Seattle, WA. Not long after retiring for the night, I awoke to a muffled sound of music. By holding a glass to the wall, I determined that the sound was not coming from the next room.
By leaning over a vent, I determined that this was not the source. What was left was the smoke detector. Like Sherlock Holmes, after eliminating the impossible I was left with the improbable. In an effort to silence the noise and resume my slumber, I climbed up on the bed and frantically waved a towel at the offending detector. Nothing happened. The final step was to place a call to engineering and report that music was coming from the smoke detector and would they please send someone up to fix it. The request was met with silence, followed by a comment that this could not be possible.
After a minute or so of less than quiet contemplation, I began to suspect another source: my suitcase. Only then did I recall that the souvenir provided by the host of the conference I had attended was a compact portable radio. Somehow it had gotten switched on as my bag was moved around and handled. Upon further examination, the mystery was solved, the radio was turned off and I called engineering to cancel the request and explained what had transpired. I’m not sure, but I believe I heard the sound of muffled laughter, and I was pretty sure of the source. My lack of acoustical sensitivity had put me in this embarrassing situation.
