Michael's Chronicles: Silverthorne

I haven't had much time to do blog writing these days, as anyone who wanders onto this page will quickly notice. My brother Michael is a heck of a lot more prolific with the writing these days than I am. He travels all over the country selling hardwood drums and playable furniture at high-end art fairs. He's got stuff to talk about, so he's up and I'm not. Maybe that's for the best? Anyway, here's the newest from Michael Thiele, Hardwood Music craftsman. 

Sunday, July 14
Silverthorne

This morning I sauntered into a bagel shop with onyx counters. Onyx! I wondered what the bagel was going to set me back. I looked at the counter, glasslike and hard. Two centimeters (3/4” or so), not three - not the thick stuff. I rapped my knuckle on it to see if it rang. It did. Something in me flipped. I was holding my ceramic coffee cup from the Museum of the American Arts And Crafts Movement, which I visited this winter in St Petersburg, Florida. Don’t ask why but I suddenly wondered if I could set the cup on this counter so gently that it would make no audible sound. I tried.

My first and second and third attempts failed in different degrees. I stood back and thought about it. Seemed like I needed to make perfect slow motion contact to pull it off. I had already established two rules: No part of my hand could come into contact with the counter first, thus deadening the sound. Also, I couldn’t touch just the edge of the cup first and then lay the rest of it down. Same deal - deadens the sound. Some random lady was walking in the door in that moment. She apparently spotted me, now stooping down to see the contact points at eye level.

None of this was any of her business, of course, but she walked over and engaged.

“What are you doing.” Her words actually stunned my private moment. I hesitated, rising from my task.

“Who wants to know?” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. She laughed.

“It’s just that that’s such a strange thing to see.” 

“Are you here for a bagel?” Thought I could change the focus.

“I am. Just tell me what you’re up to.” I told her. She gave me the strangest look apparently trying to put some version of two and two together then shook her head slightly, side to side, and walked off. Not another word. No, “thanks for the heads up.” Thankfully.

Are no moments private anymore?


Later…..