Ok, now I KNOW I'm getting old...

...I've stooped to "Gas Station Nostalgia".

My son has no frame of reference for the days when all service stations did was sell gas and fix cars... when they actually gave you little "bribes" like steak knives or Green Stamps to get you to buy their gas...  the "click click click" of the gas pump as the numbers ticked off the dollars and gallons (and the "gallons" went faster than the "dollars").... when the different grades of gasoline had names, like Sky Chief, Fire Chief....

DING! DING! DING! DING! You know what that is? That's the sound the bell used to make when someone pulled into the gas station and ran over the rubber hose. (Ok, or - "some little bastard kids jumped up and down on it"). Those of you who are old enough to remember such things know exactly the sound I'm talking about - you can even hear it in your head.

That was the sound that brought out the guy (and it was always a guy) who not only pumped your gas, but checked your oil and cleaned your windshield. 

I actually was that guy for a while when I was in high school.

I got a very vivid lesson in life during my brief  tenure as a pump jockey: there are all kinds of people in the world; there are some real jerks, but there are also honest, decent folks. 

 I had a customer come in and ask for five dollars worth of gas (hey, back then, that was a half tank or so), which I dutifully dispensed. He handed me three dollars. I said: 

"Uh, Sir, it was five dollars" 

"No, I only said three..."

His word against mine - what was I going to do; take two bucks worth back out? Guess where the other two bucks would be coming from? My pay. He left me pretty disgusted and angry. 

Only a few minutes later, another customer came in - out of state plates- and asked for a fill-up. I topped off his tank and it came to ten dollars. I rang his gas card through and he went on his way. A couple of minutes later, he stopped back in. 

"Are you sure it was only ten dollars?", he asked.

"Yeah, look, see? The pump still says $10.00" (No one had been in since he left).

 He pointed to the other side of the pump that read "$14.00".

"Are you sure it wasn't fourteen?" 

"No, no, I'm sure I pumped your gas from this side..."

He scribbled on the gas card receipt, stuffed it in my shirt pocket and said:

"There's my name and address - if you come up short, let me know and I'll send you the four bucks".

You could have knocked me over with a feather.

SILENCE!

Where is it written that humans must surround themselves with noise and babble? Why must we be constantly "entertained"? Why are people so afraid of silence? Why do we need to surround ourselves with TVs playing to no one, talk radio that no one's really listening to? Why would we want to surround ourselves with so many things vying for our attention and more often than not, trying to sell us something?

I know, I know, a guy with a surgically attached iPod should be the last one to throw stones at his own glass house, but the omnipresent, constant din of TVs and other mindless babble has started to push me over the edge. I sat in my camp in the woods one day and just listened to nothing. Yeah, it was a bit unnerving - at one point, I thought to myself: "This is what the inside of a tomb must sound like... for eternity"- but it was also soothing.

I went into a warehouse area at work the other day, and the quiet enveloped me like a warm blanket. The calm that came over me surprised me. Sometimes you get so inured to the cacophony that you don't realize the presence of the noise...until it's missing.  Yeah, I work in a factory, it's noisy - DUH- but it's more than that. It's inane chatter among co-workers, it's other people's phone calls - mindless and otherwise and it's not one, but TWO TVs in the lunchroom - often on different stations. Some days even a microwave isn't fast enough to get me out of there.

All that's bad enough, but what made me borderline Postal was a trip to the dentist. I  wasn't in the waiting room long enough to be driven mad by the drivel spewing from the TV in there, but when I got to the hygienist's chair, I was surprised to see TV's at each station, tuned in to a talk show. 

Now, since I don't watch TV, I may be more sensitive than most, but is it just me, or are talk shows the absolute epitome of mindless crap? The host breezed through about four guests in a half hour, asking the most inane questions of absolutely no substance. As if that weren't enough, this was punctuated by obviously artificial applause and peppered with commercials, it seems like every 30 seconds. It was so disjointed and rapid fire, it was almost disorienting. It bordered on the "Ludovico Technique" used to punish Alex in "A Clockwork Orange". He had no choice but to watch, yet millions of people subject themselves to this willingly every day? Maybe it was aversion therapy for me, so that I'll take such good care of my teeth I'll spend the absolute minimum time in the chair? I think it worked! Most people dislike the dentist for other reasons...

There was but one antidote. The following day, I took the dogs and the snowshoes and headed for the woods. About a half mile in, I stopped and stood still. Off in the distance, I could still hear the sounds of the highway, but they were muted and barely audible. I could actually hear small clumps of snow falling off the tree branches with a soft "plop". I could hear a Downy woodpecker chipping away bark, way over my head in a dead maple; rap-rap-rap. The fresh snow even muffled the noises of nature and I felt something just meting away from me, like a heavy coating. I stood and listened for a few minutes and then continued on my way, smiling, for the first time in days.