The Patron Saint of Noise*

I’ve decided I’m not going to apologize for infrequency of postings when I don’t have any readers.  When I have readers, I’ll worry about it!

I haven’t posted much recently, because I don’t want a blog to be just an outlet for angst and frustration and negativity (that’s what a diary’s for), and I have had a lot of the above in the last few weeks.  Instead, I picked out a random happy topic – we’ll see where it takes me!

 

My Favorite Sounds

By

Me

 

  • The “mrrrrp” sound Erida (one of my cats) makes when I call her name.
  • The sound of traffic passing by on the highway – other people hate this noise, and I don’t get it.  It restoreth my soul.  It reminds me of traveling at night in the car, something I will always love.  On the rare occasions I work overnights, I will step outside for a little while so I can listen to it and let it soothe me (and, trust me, if I’m having to work nights for someone, I’m in need of a little soothing!).
  • The “taptaptaptap” noise my dog’s toenails make against my floors, as she follows me everywhere, because heaven forbid I leave a room without her!
  • The Doctor Who theme ringtone on my BlackBerry.  I miss my BlackBerry so hard – I had to quit using it because I couldn’t hold a signal inside my very old brick-and-plaster house, which meant I had to carry on all conversations of more than two minutes in duration in the front yard.  If anyone knows of a killer app to improve radio strength, that would be awesome.
  • A good thunderstorm.
  • The dryer, especially when it has something with heavy buttons a-tumblin’ inside.
  • The theme music to Super Mario Brothers, original version (also a ringtone on my BlackBerry)
  • The hollow needle-in-groove background noise when playing records.
  • The soft “click-click” sound my stove burners make – it sounds like cooking, which I think I’ve established is one of my favorite pastimes.
  • The unmistakable sound of a wooden bat meeting a pitched baseball, the collective intake of breath while the crowd waits to see where it goes, and the ensuing cheers, groans, and/or claps.  Come on spring!
  • Bagpipes.  Fife and drum corps.  Cannons.  Black powder rifles.  Yep, I was raised by historic re-enactors.  (Remind me sometime to tell you the story of the time I, a nice agnosti-Jew, saw the face of Jesus in the clouds at a French & Indian War encampment.  It’s high-larious!)
  • Dialects from other places, like southern Louisiana, or Scotland (I had guests from both places check out today, and I could have listened to them all day).
  • Neil Diamond.  Yeah, it’s a little disturbing how deep and unholy my love for him is.
  • My friend J shouting “P Squared!!!!!” at the top of his voice whenever Patrick Paterson (of the now-out-of-the-tournament Kentucky Wildcats) makes a basket.  I don’t think I should tell him this, though, as it would only encourage him to greater heights of loudness!
  • The nice, solid sound the doors on my 1962 Buick LeSabre made when they closed.  I don’t get to hear this sound any more, as the car was a money pit and I sold it to some wannabe gangsta who had visions of hoopties (is that how you spell it?) dancing in his head.
  • Passionate music – give me Tchakovsky, Beethoven, Wagner, Mahler, Berlioz.  Just don’t give me chamber music.  Down with Debussy!
  • Trains.  Train whistles, clattery train wheels, train crossing bells.  Trains. 

And, because this place is a little (a lot) text-heavy, I thought I’d close with some pictures, but they’re enormous and have to be resized, so I’ll throw some pictures in here tomorrow.

Toodles!

*I have no idea!

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