Noise

9/30/2006


 


NOISE


 


 


A couple of days ago I played my MP3 player too loud.  For hours afterward, my head felt raw, as if some of its lubricant were missing.  My neck creaked.  My skull bones rubbed hard against my brain until blisters formed.  All the sounds I heard during those hours were like the crunching sound one hears and feels underfoot following a powder-crisp January snow in Vermont, while trudging to the barn, or worse, to the outhouse.


 


I came to the library to find sanity, instead I found the “Faire on the Square” happening next door, with booming music and families bumbling about from booth to booth, grabbing cotton candy, hopping on rides, admiring pumpkins–the noise!  I tried turning up the music on my MP3 player to drown out the drums and singing out there, but it was hopelessly noisy.  I felt like strangling Curious George, who had taken up residence outside the library to amuse and be amused by us all.


 


I moved.  To a corral away from the windows.  I’m parked there now.  The kids downstairs make constant noise.  I turn up my MP3 player loud to drown them out.  Out with you all!  Out, out!  Music up so loud my ears hurt.  Castrate Curious George!  Louder, louder!  Kill the kids!  Kill ’em!  Kill ’em all and stuff ’em in the toilet!  Get out of MY library!


 


Problem is, toilets clog when you stuff them with kids, especially big kids, and police sirens make an awful lot of noise.