Terry Sarten: Turning a deaf ear when people talk about you

I have just had my hearing tested. I was born with one functioning ear. The other is purely decorative. The right ear provides symmetry to my face but is otherwise useless. As a musician, listening is essential. Saying "pardon" to the band in the middle of a song is unpardonable.
At age 8, while playing with my father's pocket watch, it became apparent that I could not hear the tick-tock when it was held to my dud ear. Up to this point, my parents had thought I was just being a ratbag but this seemed to suggest I had not heard their words of wisdom when heading for trouble. I suspect I was actually being a little toe-rag but at least I had an excuse.
There is a mix of the good, bad and indifferent consequences to being deaf in one ear. I have been mistaken for a complete idiot at times as I cannot tell where people are when they call my name because I cannot fix the location of voices and sounds. At other times I have been an incomplete idiot and simply missed crucial information. For all I know, I could have been told many secrets over the years and missed them all. Other disadvantages include the need to turn and face people when it is noisy in order to hear their words combined with a bit of discreet lip reading. This can be tricky. Talking to a woman you have only just been introduced to, it is often necessary to explain why you are watching their face so intently so they don't think you are a crazed potential stalker.
When audiophiles go on about stereo effects, I just look blank. I have never heard anything in stereo, so trying to enthuse me about a particular stereo panning effect on a Pink Floyd album is a waste of time.
On the up side, I have acquired high-quality headphones that have been gifted by people who find that one side has gone bust. I accept these one-eared headphones with glee as I couldn't give a toss if it is all in glorious mono. Attending gigs is never a problem. If the band is too loud for my beleaguered hearing I put a finger in my good ear, blocking out most of the sonic onslaught. Standing at the back of a concert with a finger jammed in one ear does garner some funny looks. I am sure people think I am a folkie who has accidentally gone to the wrong venue. Being deaf in one ear means I can sleep through thunderstorms, neighbourhood parties and alarm clocks. When travelling, I can lean on a pillow and have wonderful, instant silence in which to ponder, read or sleep without distraction.
With only one ear that works, I do miss half of what people say about me when they think I am not listening but can successfully ignore the half that I did hear. If I ask people to repeat something it does give them time to consider whether they really meant what they said. So next time you see me in the street and call out my name only to find that you have been completely ignored, please don't be offended.
Terry Sarten describes himself as a parent, musician, social worker, writer and one-eared listener. Email: tgs@inspire.net.nz