I had a tough time falling asleep last night, but I finally dozed off around 4 or 5 in the morning. First I dreamed I was in Boston. I arrived in town all alone and wandered around with my drum machine and synthesizer. My hotel room was outside on a balcony. That’s pretty cool, but what if it rains? I wound up getting a drive to a beach where I played music for a superhero soundclash.
Then I dreamed I was fooling around with a certain young woman of university age at her place. Then her parents showed up. Her parents were rich, weird and mean. I had to leave. Sorry baby.
Then I dreamed I was in a library. The librarian was old and quite cantankerous. He was one of those people who would say “SHHHH!” and his shushing would be louder and more disruptive than the whispering it was meant to suppress.
Then I dreamed I was fucking your girlfriend. You left the room and we were all over each other. I’m sorry dude, but your girlfriend is really really horny.
I was awakened at 9:30 by some commotion on the Bloomfield back deck. There was a bit of clunking around; soon followed by a loud, sustained, high-pitched whine.
I was lying there in bed thinking, “What the hell is that sound?”
The audio comedian in me replied, “Two point five kilohertz.”
It occurred to me that it’s been weeks since I’ve been called upon to recognize a frequency. I haven’t done live sound in a while. The Marquee Club has been closed for renovations for almost a month, and I haven’t really sought out any freelance sound gigs.
So I grabbed my laptop from beside my bed (my bed-partner last night was a highly submissive virtual love-doll) and flipped it open to a tone generator program. I fired up a sine wave at 2.5K.
The tone matched exactly with what was coming from the deck. It was such a perfect match that I had to double-check to make sure my speakers were turned on. I verified it by listening to 2K and then 3.15. “EEEEEEE…” Nope, the sound coming from outside was pretty much a pure tone of 2.5KHz.
I had to get up and look out the window to find out what I was listening to. It was the sound of the fuel delivery man filling our oil tank with heating oil. I listened until the end of the delivery, when the sound slowly dropped in pitch and then stopped.
Then he pulled the nozzle out of the tank and ran away down the driveway.
I went back to bed, fell back asleep and had more fucking dreams.
I wonder if pitch is a function of the length of the hose, or if it’s the size of the nozzle that matters?