Loud

Mildred Willis Loud, who had worked in a downtown Baltimore real estate firm, died of congestive heart failure Dec. 13 at her daughter's home in Northwest Baltimore. She was 90 and lived in Mount Washington. Born Mildred Willis in Betterton, she was the daughter of Ida Willis, who ran the old Wiltshire summer hotel on the Eastern Shore, and Charles Willis, a waterman. "She often fondly remembered her years there, helping her mother in the hotel, enjoying the seafood her father caught and the fresh vegetables her mother grew, and spending time at Betterton's beach," said her daughter, Lorraine Loud Wizda of Baltimore.

It's been this way for nearly a century: When Goldie Davage, force of nature, puts her mind to something, she just about wills it so.Now, as she walks up a stairway, what she wants more than anything is the white knit sweater she left while getting her hair done at La Princess Beauty Salon on Pennsylvania Avenue."

How loud was it? So loud that you couldn't even hear Coppin State coach Fang Mitchell's resounding sideline show. That's loud.It was so loud at Hill Field House last night, so loud and hot and packed with fans, that every basket was a holiday, a celebration, a day off from school.Early, the public address announcer warned fans not to lean on any railings. Late, he asked them not to throw ice at the cheerleaders.It was that kind of night.The NBA's Wizards were playing at the MCI Center, just an hour's drive away, and the usual array of Division I big-timers were dribbling away on ESPN, but you could have all that for a nickel.

Decked out in Orioles garb, 35-year-old Garry Kvech of Catonsville, howled at the top of his lungs, cheering a strikeout by Mike Mussina and intent on one mission:"Our main goal is to make it so you can't hear cell phones ringing," said Kvech, referring to the notion that some fans at Camden Yards come with flip-phones in hand for business calls. "Everybody's got to yell loud enough to drown 'em out."For Kvech and the other fans at yesterday's game -- 49,075, the third-largest crowd in Oriole Park history -- there was a gauntlet thrown down in front of them.

In the wake of Oklahoma City, Bill Clinton has come down strongly against the forces of hate. You might think that would be a non-controversial stance, sort of like coming down strongly against sin.But of course it isn't.That's because Clinton says a powerful source of that hate comes from the right-wing voices found up and down your AM radio dial. He put it this way: "They spread hate. They leave the impression that, by their very words, violence is acceptable."Rush Limbaugh, among others, has taken umbrage.

A loud anti-government whineSays spending is way out of line;Cut here and cut thereBut do have a care --Entitlements? Never cut mine.

Let's get one thing straight right from the start: Silverfish is not for listeners who like their music laid-back and low-key.Quite the contrary. Because the Silverfish sound isn't just loud -- it's also rude, uninhibited and in-your-face, mixing mosh-pit aggression with the ear-shredding dissonance of underground rockers like Sonic Youth. Things get so loud, in fact, that singer Lesley Rankine says she sometimes has trouble hearing herself sing. "If the club has a crap P.A. system," she laughs, "I might as well just be sitting in the bar half the time."

Sorry, what was that you said? I couldn't hear you. The garbage truck was going by. An airplane flew overhead. My son is listening to the stereo. The dishwasher is running. The gardener is mowing the lawn. The TV is on. It's rush hour. The baby is crying. My neighbor is using his chain saw. My daughter is practicing on her conga drums. I had to run the garbage disposal for a minute. The people next door are having a party. We live pretty close to the freeway. My husband is vacuuming.Would you mind speaking up?

Has anyone noticed that rudeness and lack of consideration in publicplaces seem to be spreading? That more and more people don't seem toknow or care how to act in public?We all know how things have degenerated in movie theaters, where people talk and make noise while viewing a film. Remember the incident in a Columbia movie theater where one young man assaulted another because he was asked to please be quiet so others could enjoy the film?This is why video rentals are popular. It's cheaper and you have control over the atmosphere in the viewing area.

Ever wonder why rock concerts are so loud?Sure you have -- especially on those mornings after, when you wake up and your ears are still buzzing from the night before. It probably doesn't bother you in the parking lot after the show; heck, everybody expects ringing ears after a rock concert. But when it's still there 18 hours later, even dedicated rock fans begin to wonder about the value of too much volume.Even in the music business, most people agree that rock concerts are often ear-crushingly loud.

A group of at least 16 people, including a Johns Hopkins University professor, said they were wrongfully arrested during a spontaneous post-election celebration early yesterday in Charles Village. But Baltimore police say officers acted to disperse a large, loud crowd after receiving complaints from neighbors and a nearby hospital. None of those arrested, who gathered outside Baltimore's Central Booking and Intake Center after their release about 9 a.m. yesterday, were charged with a crime, they said.

Food *** (3 stars) Service *** (3 stars) Atmosphere ** (2 stars) There are two kinds of people who shouldn't even consider eating at the new RA Sushi in Harbor East: Those who take their sushi seriously, and those who don't like really loud, throbbing rock 'n' roll music while they eat. In fact, if you fall into either of those two categories, don't even read any farther. That's how enraged this Arizona-based chain will make you. Poor:]

Mildred Willis Loud, who had worked in a downtown Baltimore real estate firm, died of congestive heart failure Dec. 13 at her daughter's home in Northwest Baltimore. She was 90 and lived in Mount Washington. Born Mildred Willis in Betterton, she was the daughter of Ida Willis, who ran the old Wiltshire summer hotel on the Eastern Shore, and Charles Willis, a waterman. "She often fondly remembered her years there, helping her mother in the hotel, enjoying the seafood her father caught and the fresh vegetables her mother grew, and spending time at Betterton's beach," said her daughter, Lorraine Loud Wizda of Baltimore.

What's the hardest stadium to play in? Probably Boston and New York [Yankees]. They are always packed. Boston is really tough because it's always loud and it's just a good home atmosphere. But we've lost a lot of games [in the Metrodome], I know that. I think coming here and playing in the dome is very hard. It's an adjustment for everybody. When they got a lot of people here, it's very loud. I was hitting and it was very loud.

Is it me, or is it loud in here? I SAID IS IT ME, OR IS IT LOUD IN HERE? YES, IN HERE! IN THE MOVIE THEATER! WHAT? YES, I KNOW IT'S ONLY THE TRAILERS. I SAID, I KNOW IT'S ONLY THE ... Whew. Do you have conversations like this at the movies? I have them all the time. At the risk of lapsing into cranky-old-guy musing, when did it get so loud at the local cineplex or multiplex or megaplex, or whatever they're calling themselves these days? When did they start jacking the volume to eardrum-shattering levels, so that every car crash, helicopter explosion and Semtex blast makes me jump out of my seat?

Again and again, she made me smile that year. And just when I thought she'd be around for a while, just when I thought she'd lift me into the stratosphere with more of her music -- poof! -- the girl was gone. Adriana Evans is the mysterious songstress whose CD stayed in my changer and Walkman for an entire year, filling my headphones day in and out. I still play her album regularly. In '97, my sophomore year at the University of Arkansas, the San Francisco-raised artist dropped her self-titled debut.

Television is too vast an enterprise to ever fit neatly into any year-end-story box. But there are years in which a certain thematic unity can be found among the biggest moments, hit shows, and most powerful narratives of the television season. This year, that common ground is reality TV - specifically, the spread of the reality TV sensibility not only throughout the medium, but through the larger culture. Reality TV was already year-end news in 2000 with the debut of Survivor (CBS). By the start of last year, it was a programming staple.

ON A recent trip from Baltimore to Boston on the Acela Express, I opted for the promise of serenity in the "Quiet Car." The conductor informed each passenger as he made his way through the car inspecting tickets that cell phones, electronic equipment noises and loud talking were not allowed. We were also reminded of it by public address announcements every five minutes that included the statement that if we could hear the announcement, we were, indeed, in the Quiet Car. We were reminded again that we were in the Quiet Car when individuals, alerted audibly or not, jumped up and ran for the exit doors, apparently to take a call on their cell phones in the corridors between cars.

ANAHEIM, Calif. - It's loud here. Lord, is it loud. It's so loud that the next ballpark giveaway by the Anaheim Angels will have to be hearing aids. Step right up, folks. No question that this wild kingdom of freeways, strip malls, warehouses, parking lots and fast-food joints is trying hard to be heard. Way too hard. Anaheim won't be denied its claim that this is now - thanks to the Angels - a viable, vocal and relevant sporting locale. That must explain the relentless use of those obnoxious ThunderStix again last night at Edison Field.

APPARENTLY, we have now reached the point in this country where everyone above the age of 8 is being issued a cell phone and told: "OK, get out there and have real LOUD, personal conversations in public." In the dairy aisle of my local Mars supermarket the other day, a woman -- dark hair, intense, in her early 30s -- was doing just that. Pushing her shopping cart with one hand and holding her Nokia with the other, she conducted an incredibly intimate conversation with someone named Ernie that could only be overheard by, oh, 300 other people.