Hayter
article for February 16, 2020
“Fear
of the sound of silence”
Back when I was teaching, one of
the more disturbing sounds for me was silence… the silence that occasionally
followed one of my questions during a lecture. Some teachers will not say
another word until someone comes up with an answer to their question. I could
never do that.
For one thing, I never liked it when
one of my teachers did that. It made me feel embarrassed for our class and for
the teacher. After about 20 seconds I’d have to raise my hand and make
something up. Of course, if it were an algebra or trigonometry class, I was never
smart enough to even make up an answer. -- “Sir, is it twelve to the 18th
power?” -- “What?! Are you out of your mind, Dennis?” -- My high school
teachers occasionally called me by my brother’s name. Dennis was three years
ahead of me and much smarter. By the time I graduated, I had pretty much ruined
his reputation.
So, where is this headed? Let me
think. Oh, yeah, Kay and I were at a social gathering last week when the
discussion turned a bit insightful. I hate it when that happens. At a social
gathering, no less! -- The host asked, “What is the most spectacular thing
you’ve ever seen in nature?” -- A
question like that requires way too much thinking for me. Best, worst, most
spectacular…I hate digging for stuff like that. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen
some spectacular stuff. Nothing like “attack ships on fire off the shoulder of
Orion” like Rutger Hauer in “Blade Runner.” Let’s face it, I’ve been around.
Oh, yes I have.
Obviously, I don’t want to be the
first to answer, because I don’t want to appear too anxious. And, because it
will take me at least 30 minutes to come up with something. But there the
question sat. Right in the cushy chair in the living room. And, it hung there
for almost 30 seconds. Eight more seconds and it’s equivalent to an eternity in
dog years. So, I took it upon myself to break the proverbial ice. Listen to
this:
“I think it was in “Ripley’s Believe it
or Not”, when they featured a guy who could draw and fire his pistol faster
than anybody. The fact that the event was held outside made it qualify as
something in nature. So, there were two balloons tethered about five feet apart.
The man had his hand on a timer. All of a sudden -- POW! There was only one shot
fired, and both balloons popped at once. That’s easy, the guy used buckshot. However,
when they turned the tape to slow motion, you could clearly see that the guy
drew his pistol, shot one balloon, moved his gun slightly to the right, and
shot the second. It was so fast, you could only hear one POW, and, though the
balloons seemed to pop at the same time, there was a nanosecond between two
pops.”
That’s what I said. And it hung
right there for about an eternity in dog time. I turned to Kay and she had
nothing. She was visually disavowing any knowledge of me. Fortunately, someone
immediately followed with “The Grand Canyon.” That was that person’s most
spectacular view of nature. Everyone agreed. “Beautiful. Just spectacular. A
photo does it no justice…”
Well, I’ve got to tell you. I’ve
seen the Grand Canyon. It was nice. But after about 10 minutes I was ready to
leave. The reason being, I just wasn’t in the mood. For the past six hours, I
had been in a car with Kay’s family and her family’s dog, Bouncalot. Kay’s
parents and her older brother were in the front seat with the dog, a chihuahua not
known for its calm demeanor, ergo, the frisky name.
Kay, her younger brother, and I were
in the backseat. Kay and I were not yet married, so this was pretty much a test
to see if such a thing were even possible. So, Uncle Ray, Kay’s Dad, drove us
up to the Grand Canyon. We couldn’t’ see a thing, but a flat prairie. It took us 15 minutes to disembark from that
burnt orange Bonneville. A nice car. One that we had totally trashed. There
were broken Saltines everywhere, strewn Kleenexes and an empty Kleenex box,
peanut shells, empty soda cans… Begging the question, who brings unshelled peanuts
on a car trip?
At the time, most of us were
suffering from intense thirst. And we were each weakened from hunger. Worst of
all, Bouncalot had to go. She had to go NOW. As we walked closer, it appeared,
the grandest of canyons. Immediately, I wrestled with the thought of jumping.
Thinking better of it, I said, “Look there’s water down there!” I don’t
remember how Kay described the scene, but it was something poetic. Almost made
me cringe. Well, we all stood there for about 20 minutes, barely long enough
for Bouncalot to find an appropriate place to relieve herself for the 12th
time.
All of the above, was why I could
not in all good conscience, mention the Grand Canyon as my most spectacular
view of nature. On the drive home from the gathering, I said, “Sequoias! Why
didn’t I think of Sequoia National Park?” Kay said, “We both wish you had, dear.
By the way, wanna know what Kay said
her most spectacular scene from nature was? Honey bees. She loves watching
bees. That’s just not fair. Kay can come up with baloney like that, and people
will love it. I come up with the fastest gun in the world, and they act like
I’m a four-year-old.
end
hayter.mark@gmail.com
No comments:
Post a Comment