Several years ago, there were rare moments when I was at home alone. At those rare moments, I woul relish the sounds of silence....the soft hum of the refrigerator motor, wind rustling fallen leaves down the driveway, far away train whistle, and my favorite...a ticking clock. The sound of a ticking clock was a measurement of the silence, and a validation of time as it passed.
At one time, this household contained five people, three dogs, five cars, three televisions, and three to four phones (not counting cells). And we aren't even mentioning the various music players and blow dryers.
During the times of auditory overload, the house was abuzz with ringing phones, television commercials, conversations....some sweet, some not. The washing machine and dishwasher carried on their own conversation. I would irritate the other four members of the household by calling from the kitchen, "MUTE IT!" TV commercials were the worst auditory assault because they were louder than regular programming and compounded by the fact that the TV volume was raised so that the watcher could hear the program over the din of everything else. The sound of a muted car lot owner's commercial could be deafening...kinda like beating your head against the wall and suddenly stopping.
During this raucous time, I would tell myself that a peaceful house free from commotion was something to happily anticipate. Don't kid yourself.
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