I get it. Quiet's a dear commodity in New York City, where the bars concuss you into leaving and even the restaurants are as loud as a rockslide. It's why I prefer the bus. Universally reviled by my demo but the elderly ridership knows what a proper commute sounds like and it sure as hell doesn't involve unsolicited breakdancing. Diminished hearing, slack vision, no mobility and even less tolerance for accordions at 9am, they know what's up.
Kreider's piece reminds me of a paean to Calvin Coolidge in, of course the natural venue for these things, a Cook's Illustrated opener. One imagines Christopher Kimball would prefer to toss this cooking nonsense and spend the rest of his days on the oldest tractors he could legally get his hands on.
Cal was right, though: "Four-fifths of all our troubles would disappear, if we would only sit down and keep still."