9 September 2006

Hit me with your rhythm stick

I am living in a percussionist's wet dream.

Not a moment passes when there is not some inane, mindless noise emanating from some corner of the house. And not just mere mumblings or tuneless humming either, but window pane cracking, foundation shaking, ear drum piercing noise. Whistling, furniture slapping and thwacking, top-of-their-voice singing, bizarre other-worldly yelps, squeals, and beatboxing all issue forth from developing larynx's and acoustically astounding mouths of the brothers.

I suppose this perpetual noise must be interpreted as: 'Please on no account forget that I am here, notice me, pay me attention, yoohoo, hellooooo, I am here by the way, have you noticed me because I am very much present, I must make it known that I. AM. HERE.'

Heaven forbid we cease to acknowledge this.

However, it has the adverse effect as the consistent bashings and bangings mean that when something important or noteworthy does have to be said, it merges in with all the other background noise that I have learnt to live with and come to expect. Silence is rather a foreign concept, throwing me for six if ever a moment of it chances upon my bleeding ears.

I have accepted it as inescapable; noise occurs when they are in good moods (celebrating life in all its glory and revelling in the multitudinous manners of noise creation- mostly the singing is on the menu at these times), and bad moods (shouting, swearing, door slamming, electric guitar thrashing, drum whacking and all manner of other joys on these occasions).

This morning J actually took a brief break from the eternal quest to produce the highest decibel sounds from a mere mortal ever to be heard, but only to yell at N to 'Shut up, for Christ's sake!'
Nobody but nobody is to even attempt to outdo him in the noisy stakes. N gives it a bloody good shot however.

This, nevertheless, is the soundtrack to my life. The air would surely resonate with emptiness and solitude without it, with only my thoughts, doubts, fears for company.

Sounds rather lovely. Music to my ears actually.

2 comments:

chris said...

you could just join in......get your flute out, slam some doors, swear a bit - no one would notice.

anna said...

I am trying to lead by example. It's not working. If you can't beat them, join them.