I never really liked quiet. Noise means life, people around to talk to, to comfort you, to protect you. Quiet always seemed scary to me. Quiet meant alone. Alone could be terrifying.
After I got married, there was much debate about sleeping with the television on. I needed the television, I thought. I needed the noise to help me drift off to sleep. And some noise is helpful for that purpose. My kids use sound machines, largely to block out the noises of the world beyond their doors. Creaky old floors, dogs barking, parents engaged in heated discourse about the appropriate reaches of the 4th Amendment and the intended messages in Taylor Swift’s new single [I think its transparent, he credits her with more depth], and the thunderous, predawn grind of coffee beans. Continue reading