Rock Tumbler: A Journey Of Love

My Son Ogden received a rock tumbler for his 8th birthday. I have never seen him so excited.  I decided to document the beautiful process.

Day 1 :
" OMG This is AWESOME!!!!" having never seen a rock tumbler before..he didn't even know to want one, apparently rock tumblers don't advertise themselves on cartoon network. This science kit for the rock lover, is the most perfect gift for him. It is from his grandparents, we all feel very loved. The boys bolt out the door on a quest for rocks as I decipher the directions. A few minutes later they come back with a chunk of concrete and a piece of brick. I am thankful the kit comes with its own beautiful rocks.
   Together we assemble the contraption, wash the rocks, pour in the course grit powder and water, tighten the lid and press start. The machine has timing buttons, for the first stage of course tumbling we hit the 4 day button. Our smiles reach the outer corners of our faces, we stand looking at it they way you behold the lighting of a Christmas tree. 

Within the first part of the first half of a milisecond, I realize we might have a problem. Releasing my smile I turn to my children. " Cool!!" they say.." KINDA LOUD" I scream. But their attentions have been turned and they run off. Maybe they didn't hear me over the tumbling of the rocks.

I had heard someone describe with fond recollection the gentle lull of the rock tumbler in their grandfathers workshop. I envisioned my children recounting warmly the same sense of comfort, as they described the rock tumbler in their childhood home.

DAY 1:Minute 5. The rock tumbler has been moved from my studio into the kitchen.
            Minute 8. The rock tumbler has been moved from the kitchen to the closed in carport. It needs to sit on a chair because the power cord is too short and there is no electricity in there, the proud tumbler looks ashamed, like it is sitting in time out.  We close the door the sound is muffled.......in the way throwing tissue paper over a base drum might muffle the beat.

DAY 1: Hour 2 I can't hear myself think. I am hearing voices in the white noise. I realize the sound of Grating is actually very grating..I guess that is why they call it that.

DAY 1: Hour 3 I think I might kill it.  I contemplate who would die first if I gnawed thru the power cord. Me or the tumbler, I don't know why I don't just unplug it. The rattling has disoriented me. I wonder if interrogation rooms employ the rock tumbling technique.

DAY 1: Hour 5 there is NO WAY I am going to last 17 days. I love my kids but....the do sell already polished rocks at the novelty shop on the island.

DAY 1: Hour 8. Nowhere is safe. I need to leave the house. The kids are at their dads place. I go to the bar and try to forget about the rock tumbler.

DAY 2: Its 2am. I hear the rock tumbler as I stand on my stoop searching for the keys. I AM OUTSIDE! I hear the rock tumbler from outside my home. FROM THE OUTSIDE I walk in, and 2 times ask myself what that noise is, oh yeah, its the rock tumbler.

DAY 2: 6am. There is a construction crew working outside my house at 6AM ON A SATURDAY, I am livid as I throw on a sweatshirt and plod down the hallway, I stomp angrily towards the front door with the intention of giving the crew the evil stink eye. In the hallway, I realize it is just the rock tumbler.

DAY 2: It is noon. I need to leave the house, I can not take it, maybe this rock tumbler is good for me, maybe it will force me to be social. Maybe I will meet someone because I am out of the house trying to avoid the noise. This could be my love story.

DAY 2: It's not like you can just stay out of the house forever. I try to drown out the rumbling by surfing the internet. I make an irrational purchase online for an upcoming holiday party gift exchange. It is gag gift that may actually make someone gag. I am momentarily elated. I don't know if I can say what it is out loud, but it was purchased at a place called the Hymen Shop. The site promises to restore your virginity in less then 5 minutes.  I think no greater gift exists, even I prayed for Santa to give me my virginity back each time I lost it....and I am Jewish.
    Then I begin thinking of the devastating implications of the fake hymen I just purchased. I am 100% certain if I did NOT have this rock tumbler shaking my house walls I would have thought better of it. I would have been sensitive to the millions of people in the world who's intact hymens are the difference between life and death, and here from my comfy chair I make a mockery of it.  I think of all the friends I will lose during the gift exchange.
   Usually I make something like this double headed wig donut baby for the party, but instead, thanks to the ceaseless grinding in my head, I will disappoint my friends with a store bought prosthetic vaginal curtain. I project more then a few offended ladies will exit the room. Great. Thanks Rock tumbler, you have stolen all my friends and ruined Christmas.

DAY 3: I wake up to my eight year old staring at me. "Mom! Are the rocks ready? Can we look at them?" ...Damn it, he is really into this thing. " No Honey, one more day" I catch him peeking thru the carport door looking longingly at the heaving monstrosity.

At some point in the day I find myself crying. I cry a river with class 4 rapids. I don't know why. SO I leave the house again. I do not cry at Starbucks, but begin again when I return home. I think the rock tumbler is making me crack. I realize I may be writing this journal as a map of my mental decline, to bring into evidence should I lose all capacity.

Day 4: Something is different. Every few hours the machine just stops! It stops! A reprieve ! for almost 4 seconds, and then it starts again. I would like to describe those 4 seconds as glorious rosebuds of scrumptious relief....or a softly sung hallelujah...although it takes longer to sing hallelujah than the silence lasts. Maybe it is changing direction? or maybe...it is dying a slow death of it's own....which wouldn't be anybody's malicious or premeditated attempt, just nature running it's course....or in this case...it's course grit cycle.

Today Is Step 2, we change out the rocks water and wash them off, we were able to identify the stones, tigers eye, red jasper, carnelian and aventurine. For some reason the rock tumbler stone identification map (which is black and white by the way..WTF) has dumbed down aventurine to "Green Adventure" insulting our intelligences. Hello Rock tumbler we were smart enough to put you together and turn you on and read where you say "do not rinse in household sink" ..wait..what!!! Crap... apparently the course grit rinse can not be poured down the kitchen sink drain...that is conveniently notated AFTER the step 3..Rinse rocks thoroughly...so far this rock tumbler has cost me $8.99 in headache medicine, $19.99 in fake hymens , and the possibility of needing to replumb my house...what kind of people have special outdoor rock tumbling sinks anyway.

DAY 5: I never went to sleep last night. Mostly because I got really immersed in work and technical difficulties and customer service and neck pain and frozen corn...but the rock tumbler certainly isn't helping matters, in fact the constant droning has made my shoulders even extra tense.One can not become physically sleepy if they are up to their earlobes in tense shoulders.

SO I am exhausted, and it is school bus time. My 8 year old is pitching a fit because he wants to wear brown pants instead of blue pants, THEY ARE THE SAME DAMN PANTS, only the blue ones are clean, and the brown ones are questionable. Why are we fighting about this? Because I haven't slept, I am yelling about pants at 6 in the morning. Basically because of the rock tumbler my kid is going to school today in dirty pants.

DAY 6: Today was the best day ever . The rock tumbler inexplicably turned off. I didn't realize it until I felt this peaceful sense of tranquility and then panicked when I realized the tumbler was off.

DAY 7: It's on again.....You know, it's really not soo bad.

DAY 8: I invent a term to describe the inventor of the rock tumbler...Igneous Hole....If I ever write my novel, The villain will also have that name. Or  a band name...a rock band name. I have come full circle. I love myself for a minute.

DAY 9: I think that because the rocks are being tumbled smooth they are less noisy, the jagged edges made the noise harsher. There is an interesting life lesson hidden in there I think...about rough edges being louder and more bothersome than smooth ones...but then I wonder what kind of life lesson I want to teach my kids, do I want them to be smooth tumbled stones with jagged edges that have been worn off...or loud, natural, just as they are stones. I suddenly feel depressed about the teachings of a tumbler. Although maybe it is the wear and tear that polishes us and makes us beautiful.  Rock Tumbling. A Philosophers guide to nowhere fast.

DAY 10: Nevermind. IT IS SOO LOUD. Had company for dinner. It was kind of a date. I think? I didn't hear a word he said. I do know he thought my Penne was auspicious and that I have a dutiful smile. In between the churning of the boulders, He kept asking "IS YOUR FASHION MACHINE BROKEN"  Listen, I know I'm not the best dressed lady in town, but clearly I have invested my energy in other pursuits, like making sure my kids follow thru on their annoying experiments. Jeeze. He leaves, I realize he thought my washing machine was broken, that makes more sense.

DAY 11: one am. facebook status update "Rock Tumbler".
   

DAY 12:  The children have lost interest.  The polish stage of rock tumbling is met with a teenage disdain. Ogden is unimpressed. He yawns as we pour the grit in our front yard...which doesn't seem like a good idea...but I don't have a fancy grit disposal system .

DAY 13:  Singing bedtime stories I make up a rock tumbler shimmy. Its a dance with a chant that goes " Rock Tum-Bler, Rock Tum-Bler"  everyone laughs.

DAY 14 - 17: The train behind my house is especially active for some reason....all night long, honking its horn, There is also a beeping like someone has left the car door open with the key in the ignition ....for 3 days. I believe my God got wind of me complaining about the rock tumbler.

DAY 18: Everyone is up early. We are so excited for the BIG REVEAL.  As we unscrew the cap and drain the rocks through the colander, I have inner thoughts. My inner thoughts go something like this " That's It?..Seriously? That is IT?"  I don't know what I was expecting...Intellectually I knew that 4 carat diamonds were not going to appear where once there was rose quartz...but I am not gonna lie..I expected some magic...some impossible shine. I put on my fake voice. The one I reserve for playing peek-a-boo with babies on an airplane when I am not in the mood....  I muster a high pitched " WOW Guys! Look at that, look what you made!" ...my kids aren't idiots... Ogden looks me straight in the eye and opens his mouth really big feigning awe..."So cool" He says to appease me..I can read his mind...( He doesn't want to hurt my feelings, but he wonders how long he has to stand here and pretend to be amused by wet rocks...yeah I read him like a billboard in traffic )

 

We take a handful of pictures. I tell them how proud I am for all their hard work and dedication, their direction reading and follow thru. It is a really long arm that I am patting myself on the back with as well. I watch them put the rocks in this cute little bowl with an owl on it.  Great.  This is our little bowl of rocks...It may not look like much to you...but these rocks are important.  We don't look at them, we don't  play with them, but these loud rocks remind me of those hard days.. They carry with them the sounds of  turmoil...like walls that talk.

I have drawn the conclusion that often times..even the most innocuous of objects can be hardest fought. I will try not to take for granted the next tumbled rock or polished stone I see, and likewise every nut, bolt, screw, nail, chain, car, wheel, wire, fork, spoon, plate, cup, chair, bottle, shoe, piece of cloth, spool of thread, button, box, can, or vessel....Cause somewhere, someone has been driven crazy by it.

Also I used to think a drum set was the gift you get for the children of your enemies...now I know better.