People in Seattle think firecrackers are loud. They’re wrong. The walking beer-gut a block over with the prison tats and the Skoal-brown teeth thinks his 9mm is loud. He’s also incorrect. In fact, go ahead and think up your favorite noisemaking method of welcoming the New Year and I’m almost certain you will also have a bit of a misconception of what is truly “loud”. Okay, okay, you cops and firefighters with your amplified sirens and 900-watt loudspeakers might have me beat, but ordinary civilians have their work cut out for them trying to compete with the awesome deafening power of the…
No, no, no, not one of those silly tin things drummers ridiculously insist on attaching to their drum kits. I’m talking about this brass behemoth. It’s an authentic Swiss cowbell. It weighs 15 pounds and has actually spent time dangling from the neck of some gargantuan bovine somewhere around the hills of Lucerne. See, when you lose a cow in the Swiss mountains, you need the bell around its neck to make a hell of a lot of noise. You gotta be able to hear it over all the yodeling blonde chicks.
Karin is a proud Swiss woman (and is probably going to give me hell for the “yodeling blonde chicks” joke). The bell is one of her prized possessions. It doesn’t get moved about much, but when it does, everyone knows it. They can practically hear it in Geneva.
New Year’s Eve is the traditional time for us to drag it out and make it sing its cacophonous song. People all down the street think they’re so clever with their various explosives until their every attempt at caterwauling is drowned out by the riotous clanging of what I like to call “Hell’s Bell”.
So take that, silly neighbors! I think we all know who wins the New Year’s Noise contest. Bow in honor of the majestic, giant cows of Switzerland, for they truly know what is meant by the term “More Cowbell”.