Eurovision: Going deaf in Spain

With every year's village fair there comes a trendy toy it seems every kid in Barbate -- young and not so young -- must have. Last year it was the mini-motorcycle. In every point of the city you could hear the damn whine of the motors as the pint-sized death traps sped up and down city streets and raced along the golden sands of the village's beach.

This year, the must-have is far less expensive, but probably twice as noisy: megaphones. Some genius thought they would be great toys for the summer fair. Vendors made a fortune on sales, but at a price of the every man's sanity.

The megaphones are smaller than a regular bullhorn, but don't let the size fool you. They come complete with sirens, whistles, and -- of all things forsaken -- "Jingle Bells." It's mid-July and I'm already sick of the Christmas tune. The speakers project a person's voice at two volumes: loud and obnoxiously loud; which, when you think of it, is perfect for the Spaniard who is already a naturally loud person.

If you kept the toys in the hands of children they'd be okay. You can only do so much with a bullhorn and at some point the child will become bored with it and try to figure out a hundred ways of destroying it. But, as with any free-market society, opportunity knocks for drunkards. The "feria" is full of them.

Instead of hearing kids yell "caca" and "pis-pis" and "he tirado un peo" and other proclamations of noisy bodily functions, I had the pleasure of listening to drunk 20-somethings (and younger) shout slurred obscenities, lewd come-ons and unintelligible gibber much to entertainment of their equally intoxicated friends.

Hopefully, the bullhorn craze will die as quickly as zubaz-striped pants and never return.