The Sounds of Silence

It looks like Ben and Norma are going to take a vacation in Cuba.

***

"Tap-a-tap-a-tap-a."

That's how Computer Doug describes the droning sound that has permeated the Sack since last week. A condominium complex is being built not far away. Construction began in earnest a week ago.

The "tap-a-tap-a-tap-a" sound is generated by the rock-breaking attachment on a large construction machine. The old town is built on very rocky ground. Explosives are often necessary before construction can begin, followed by lengthy periods of rock breaking. The rock breaking even takes place throughout the weekends.

It can go on for weeks at a time.

***

Sack people are accustomed to hearing "tap-a-tap-a-tap-a." There has been a lot of construction in the area over the last five years. When a new subdivision was built nearby, "tap-a-tap-a-tap-a" was heard for an entire summer.

Eventually, one gets used to the constant drone of the rock breaker. But the first week or so can be quite annoying.

Computer Doug doesn't think rock breaking should be allowed during the winter. He says it's hard enough for some people to manage in the winter without hearing "tap-a-tap-a-tap-a" all day long. It is even tougher, he added, when you have to look after two young boys by yourself on a Saturday.

***

Oscar says he doesn't mind the "tap-a-tap-a-tap-a" sound at all. It starts to have a beat to it after a while, in his opinion. Besides, he says the sound is a reminder of what it must've sounded like back in the days of the Flintstones.

Oscar watches the Flintstones on television every day. He used to watch the show during his lunch hour when he was a school kid. Few people, he claims, get to do things they used to enjoy as kids. He says this is one of the best things about working from home.

***

Weed was complaining about noise of a different kind when we saw him last night.

Apparently, one of his co-workers at the call centre is very good at talking incessantly. He says this young woman seems incapable of remaining silent for longer than a few seconds.

Weed says the call centre gig is tough enough without having a constant talker around.

This doesn't mean, of course, that he doesn't hold some sympathy for the young woman. He admits that she might be lacking in confidence and doesn't feel comfortable with the periods of silence that arise in work or social situations. But he says she talks so much, it's becoming impossible to listen to anything she says. As a consequence, he frequently has no idea what she's talking about.

A day might come, according to Weed, when the young woman will say something very important and no one hear it.

***

This line of thinking lead Weed to another one of his ground-breaking ideas for a "smoother society."

Weed has conceived of numerous ideas he thinks will bring benefits to humankind. These ideas include his sophisticated day-rating system, his argument for the three-day work week and my favourite, his "all-weather," outdoor, moving sidewalk idea.

Weed calls his latest concept, "the Five-year Word Limit."

Under Weed's plan, people will be allowed to speak a liberal, but reasonable number of words during every five-year segment of their lives. As long as you didn't talk too much, Weed says there wouldn't be any problem. But, if someone exceeded their word limit before the five years expired, a penalty would be imposed.

The penalty, Weed explained, would involve the person having to "shut his yap" for the rest of the five-year period. Theoretically, this would teach the person to talk less when the next five-year period began.

He says it would also give other people a break from the person's "constant yapping."

***

Oscar immediately identified a number of problems attached to Weed's idea. In particular, he noted the challenges of accurate word counting and, of course, how it would all be enforced. This was without mentioning, Oscar added, some possible human rights violations connected to the idea.

Weed acknowledged Oscar's concerns. He admitted that he hadn't given any thought to the details of the idea. He isn't what you might want to call "a detail man," he explained to Oscar. His strength, Weed said, was in the creation of ideas, not the implementation of them.

Oscar said this was probably a good thing.

***

Weed told us about his five-year word limit idea on Saturday night.

The three of us had gone to a university hockey game together, along with Oscar's boy, Dorian. One of the old town's universities was involved in a playoff game. It was expected to be a very exciting game.

The idea about going to the game came from Oscar. Taking Dorian to the hockey game, Oscar explained, was the only way he was going to get out of the house that evening. Dorian, of course, is fanatical about hockey and was more than pleased to help his father out.

Oscar invited Weed to the game earlier in the day, when they encountered each other at the local coffee cathedral. Although Weed enjoys hockey, he was more interested in getting out of the Little Doug household for the evening. A group of Daisy's friends from out-of-town was visiting and they were planning to hold an early baby shower on her behalf. The other alternative was watching fishing shows on television with Little Doug.

Since Oscar had secured free tickets for the game, it would also be an inexpensive evening for Weed. With a child on the horizon and with their hopes of being able to buy a house, Weed says him and Daisy are on a "Scrooge budget" for the foreseeable future.

***

The hockey game, according to young Dorian, was quite exciting. From what I could see, I think he was right.

For Oscar and Weed, the game itself was like a television set droning in the background. We might as well have been sitting in the Wonders' front room. There was an ample supply of drink and a designated outdoor smoking area for those who were so inclined.

There were two incidents of note during the hockey game outing. The first occurred when it was identified that young Dorian had not been seen for most of the game. While the lad is old enough to be left to his own devices at such events, Oscar realized that his wife, B.W. would be significantly miffed, if we returned from the game without their only offspring. If the boy wasn't located before the game ended, Oscar explained, it would be the last time he could use the boy's interests as a way of getting "out on the town."

Thankfully, Weed suddenly spied the waggish twelve-year-old sitting in an ice-level seat, eating a monstrous hot dog. We were sitting almost at the very top row of seats, so Oscar was very impressed with Weed's sharp eye.

Weed said he has always been very good at spotting things. If there was ever a professional circuit for the childhood game, "I Spy," Weed said he would be a very rich man, indeed. He also said he "hardly breaks a sweat" when confronted by a "Where's Waldo?" picture.

***

The second incident of note happened in the middle of the final period of the hockey game.

During the game, each of us had purchased a number of "50-50" tickets. The university's alumni association sold the tickets as a way of raising money for the hockey team. The lucky winner would get half of the ticket revenue, with the other half going to the team.

As is the custom at such events, we agreed to split the proceeds if any of us had the winning ticket. Such declarations are usually followed by chatter about having a nightlong foray into the old town's bar district, where the windfall could be quickly exchanged for drink, food and hilarity.

None of us had ever won a "50-50" draw.

***

Of course, there is always a first time for everything. During the final period they announced the winning ticket number on the public address system. We won the "50-50" draw. The winning proceeds amounted to four hundred and eighty-seven dollars.

Oscar went to collect the money on our behalf.

As he was returning with the money, they announced the name of the winner on the public address system. We were delighted when they identified Gordon, our neighbour and grand poobah of the Sack Resident's Society, as the winner of the money. Oscar had identified himself as Gordon, so anyone at the game who knew him wouldn't innocently mention the windfall to his wife, B.W.

***

Oscar was quite intent on ensuring that B.W. did not learn about the "50-50" victory. He said she would undoubtedly spend it all at the flea market on Sunday. He said he was going to put his share aside in their vacation fund without her knowledge.

Dorian, of course, was aware that we had won the money. As we walked out of the arena, Oscar passed him a twenty-dollar bill and indicated that it would be helpful if the boy kept the news of the win to himself.

Dorian, of course, is very much his father's son. He said fifty dollars would be the absolute minimum fee for keeping his mouth shut around the old homestead. Oscar laughed and then threatened to throw the boy in a nearby snowbank, if he dared to negotiate for another penny more. With a good-natured smile, the boy gladly took the twenty-dollar bill.

"My lips," he said with a toothy grin, "are sealed."

***

B.W., of course, found out about the "50-50" windfall within thirty minutes of their arrival at home.

Dorian told her that he wanted to go to the flea market with her the next day. He showed her his twenty-dollar bill and said he wanted to buy some hockey cards from a dealer there. He freely admitted that Oscar had given him the twenty dollars.

When confronted about the twenty dollars, Oscar quickly confessed to the "50-50" victory. Now B.W. and Dorian are going to the flea market together on Sunday morning. Oscar says he ended up with only forty dollars from his share of the money. "If my family was part of an organized crime family," he explained, "we'd be the first branch of the family to end up in a witness-protection program."

Oscar also says he learned a valuable lesson from the whole experience of trying to keep a secret from B.W.

Dorian is a lot smarter than Oscar thought.

***