A Great Way to Snub the World

By J.D. Reed

Miniature stereo tape players tune up a silent revolution

Inside my brain a dull tom-tom begins

Absurdly hammering a prelude of its own.

--T.S. Eliot

The symptoms: eyes focused in the middle distance, a smile as wide as a convert's and a telltale glint of metal covering the ears. The body may undulate with faint intimations of a boogie. Sometimes the hands fly upward in imaginary conducting motions. No doubt about it, it is an epidemic, brought on by America's mania not only for music, but for the gadgetry on which to play it. On streets, in parks, on bikes and buses, the latest transistor toy is the portable stereo cassette player. Weighing less than a pound and smaller than a paperback book, it has feather-light earphones that transmit sound of concert-hall clarity directly to the brain of the wearer, without bothering anyone near by. As Detroit Audio Salesman Thomas Badoud puts it, "These babies are unreal!"

Unreal or not, people are now bowling to the Beatles, Frisbeeing while learning French, skiing to Shostakovich and jogging to Jagger. The thin wires of the headsets uncoil from Brooks Brothers blazers and Gucci bags, as well as from bib overalls and warmup suits. Commuters, pitchers in bull pens, shoppers hovering over the meat counter and sunbathers soaking up rays are tuning in by the millions. In Houston, prospective buyers of the Sony Walkman, the original device that touched off the craze last year, must sign up for at least a 60-day wait at major audio outlets. In the Boston area, the waiting period can be up to 30 days, and some dealers require the full locally discounted price of $170 to reserve the mini-Mozart machine. Says Harvard Square's Tech Hi-Fi Sound Consultant Douglas Corley: "Our sales depend only on how fast they can build them." Some 30 other manufacturers have rushed more than 50 competing models onto the market, ranging from $60 to $300. Some units, like the KLH Solo and Toshiba KT-52, have FM stereo radios, and most accept such accessories as additional headphones, microphones for direct recording and AC adapters. Sony, which devotes an entire Tokyo factory to the units' production, this year expects to double its 1980 U.S. sales of a million of them.

Invented by Sony Chairman and Co-Founder Akio Morita because he wanted to be able to listen to high fidelity music while playing tennis, the sets allow the novelty of taking one's favorite music where it could never go before. Said Los Angeles Carpenter Howard Bogaz, 25, while roller-skating on the colorful Venice, Calif., strand: "I use it while I'm working, I take it when I ski or on long drives. I'm into my music! The sun is out, the wind is blowing, and you're on your wheels!"

But rolling along with the sounds is also a form of aural self-defense for some, such as New York TV Producer Anthony Payne, 34. "There are buses, airplanes, sirens," says Payne. "You have to replace them with something louder, by force-feeding your own sounds into your ears." Manhattan Computer Executive Michael Starr, 43, suggests that the private concert "is a great way of snubbing the world. Can you imagine if Philip Roth had had one growing up? He'd never have written Portnoy's Complaint. He never would have heard the nagging."

It may be too much to hope that the invention will offset "the box"--the 20-lb. chromed stereo radio that thickens the air of so many American cities with noise pollution. But the mini-stereo makes possible a silent revolution indoors. Denis Ilkovics, a Belgian tourist, bought one in New York for his 13-year-old daughter. "I hope she'll use it instead of those loudspeakers," he sighed.

Hospital patients previously condemned to loud daytime television are blissfully recovering to Pavarotti, and some dentists offer headphones to distract from their drilling. Adds Boston's Corley: "People use them to fall asleep. I hear these things are going to replace Quaaludes." Detroit Law Student Richard Green has found one potential hazard: "I put on my earphones when I fool around with my girlfriend. But sometimes the cord gets in the way."

Getting in the way of traffic is a more pressing worry. Police are braced for what could be an audio-accident season this summer, with stereo-deaf sportsmen crossing the paths of oncoming cars. As for those behind the wheel, many states prohibit driving with both ears blocked, but few enforce such laws. "Motorists al ready listen to car radios that are so loud they can't hear our sirens," says Michigan State Policeman Wayne McKalpain. "If they put on headphones, they'll hamper our ability to respond to emergencies."

The Walkman, with its imitators, is a product defining its time, the way television focused the style of the late '50s. Says Detroit Psychologist Gail Parker: "The growth of these things is another result of the 'me society.' These machines are very selfish. When someone is involved in loud music, they're sending out a signal to the rest of the world to be left alone." Pinstriped Businessman Wade Schilders, 24, listening to Dvorak in midtown Manhattan, hits his "hot line" (allowing intrusion by real-world noise) to disagree: "Some people say the gadgets are isolating. But another person with phones comes up and plugs into your music or you into his. There's a camaraderie among users. And now I smile when I walk, because I like what I'm listening to." As he strides off, a truck driver leans from his window in appreciation of a shapely woman crossing the street, small earphones pressed to her blond tresses. The driver shouts to her: "I know you can't hear me, but I think you're gorgeous!" She may never get the message .

-- By J.D. Reed.

Reported by Nick Balberman/ Detroit and Georgia Harbison/New York with other U.S. bureaus

With reporting by Nick Balberman, Georgia Harbison

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