The Countless Sounds Heard in a Day :: Personal Narrative Essays

The Countless Sounds Heard in a Day As a musician, I always related to sounds in terms of musical application. The only sounds I paid attention to were those involved in creating and performing music. Musical sounds were the most important to me. Well . . . actually, as a traveling musician, any troubling sounds my car made were almost as important. The only other sound I appreciated was silence - something I valued after six nights of rhythmic and melodic saturation and the babble of three hundred or so party drunks. Since I've settled down and become a family man, however, I have discovered a whole new world of sounds that give me more pleasure than music ever did. Something I never thought possible. I would like to describe for you the world of sound that I experience in a typical day. My morning always begins around seven o'clock when I am awakened by a sweet, gentle, little voice calling . . . "DADDY, I GO F'RIDE!" This is followed by a dainty smack of tiny lips on my cheek, then another smack of Mom's lips on my lips. A few minutes later, the front door slams shut and I slip back into a slumber. The next thing I hear (a few hours later) is the bloodcurdling, screaming caw of a pterodactyl about to swoop down and pluck me right out of my bed. Actually, it's only my alarm clock. I don't dare hit the snooze button, as I do not even want to hear that again. From here, my morning ritual begins, rich with the sounds of water: the galoosh of the toilet, the soft spattering of the shower, and the gurgle of coffee brewing in the kitchen. It's the coffee maker that totally captivates me, for I cannot begin to function mentally until I've had my cup of "go juice." I'll sit in a total stupor until that gurgling stops - my cue that it's ready. Before that, noting else matters. After a sip or two, I step under the whispering water of the shower and, if never fails, the phone rings. At least, I think it is ringing. Actually, it is just a subtle overtone, an aural hallucination that is produced by the shower. The Countless Sounds Heard in a Day :: Personal Narrative Essays The Countless Sounds Heard in a Day As a musician, I always related to sounds in terms of musical application. The only sounds I paid attention to were those involved in creating and performing music. Musical sounds were the most important to me. Well . . . actually, as a traveling musician, any troubling sounds my car made were almost as important. The only other sound I appreciated was silence - something I valued after six nights of rhythmic and melodic saturation and the babble of three hundred or so party drunks. Since I've settled down and become a family man, however, I have discovered a whole new world of sounds that give me more pleasure than music ever did. Something I never thought possible. I would like to describe for you the world of sound that I experience in a typical day. My morning always begins around seven o'clock when I am awakened by a sweet, gentle, little voice calling . . . "DADDY, I GO F'RIDE!" This is followed by a dainty smack of tiny lips on my cheek, then another smack of Mom's lips on my lips. A few minutes later, the front door slams shut and I slip back into a slumber. The next thing I hear (a few hours later) is the bloodcurdling, screaming caw of a pterodactyl about to swoop down and pluck me right out of my bed. Actually, it's only my alarm clock. I don't dare hit the snooze button, as I do not even want to hear that again. From here, my morning ritual begins, rich with the sounds of water: the galoosh of the toilet, the soft spattering of the shower, and the gurgle of coffee brewing in the kitchen. It's the coffee maker that totally captivates me, for I cannot begin to function mentally until I've had my cup of "go juice." I'll sit in a total stupor until that gurgling stops - my cue that it's ready. Before that, noting else matters. After a sip or two, I step under the whispering water of the shower and, if never fails, the phone rings. At least, I think it is ringing. Actually, it is just a subtle overtone, an aural hallucination that is produced by the shower.