bedecked (the sound of silence)

shhhhh. listen. can you hear it? what's that you say? you don't hear anything? exactly!

isn't it beautiful, all that absence of noise? recent events have allowed me to experience the sound of silence once again in my garage. what happened? i finally unplugged the bloody rock tumbler. that's right. you might remember me writing about the rock tumbler several weeks ago. i wrote about how, in a culture of instant-everythings, we need to sometimes take a rock tumbler view of life. we need to slow down and understand the processes that are occuring in our lives.

that's all well and good, and i still feel that way, but if every process is going to be as loud and perpetually obnoxious as this one, i'll just pass, thank you very much. sign me up to join the ranks of instantaneous everything. i just about couldn't take it any more. i mean, they make silencers for guns, right? (or is that just in tv shows? i know very little about guns.) how hard would it be to make a quiet rock tumbler? i mean, nature is tumbling rocks all the time, but i don't hear it in my garage, in my sleep, or in my head.

well, in any case, the torture is over, i survived, and we have some useless smooth rocks to show for it. totally worth it. i made a tie tack out of one. jack and i made a ring for shannon out of another. basically, we are blingin' out the whole family over here; rockin' the tumbled rocks. so, if you happen to see us out somewhere, and we are bedecked with nominally smooth brown stones, don't ask. just understand that we endured 5 weeks of hellish torture to get these rocks, and, by gosh, we are going to get something out of it!

smoothly,

greg.