Snoring. According to 2010 statistics, there is a 2 to 1 ratio of men to women snorers. I can attest that my entire life I have had someone snoring in it. The late night rattling, the pig whistles, the throat freight train, the nose foghorn, I've heard them all. Don't worry, this blog is not about snoring, but rather what happens "between the snores."

I've come to appreciate the night, it has taken 3 decades to get to that point. Being an insomniac wasn't terribly difficult in college, the late night weekends, all-nighters for studying, working the late shift managing the bar... there were always ways to combat not sleeping. I just had to schedule around it. When I did happen to land in my room, my suitemate's snoring could make Paul Bunyan's wood-cutting skills look like Chinese folk paper art. There was to be no sleep. Between the snores I had a life unlike anyone else that I knew in college. Some of my most precious memories of college were times that no one even knew existed, except me and my maker. Dorsey, the campus security guard, would be my only material witness if there were to be any.

The campus at night was a completely different world. No people, no hustle and bustle, no sounds but the water churning in the fountain, mountain peepers and an occasional rustling in the trees. Each building took on a different feel late at night. What during the day was a place of tortuous classes, became a sanctuary for me at night. Belting out a Prokofiev or Beethoven piece on the Yamaha concert grand piano in the campus chapel at 3:00 in the morning was exhilarating. I imagined the auditorium filled with people and I performing in the spotlight, fingers flying with reckless abandon. There were many nights spent in the chapel. I can still remember the deafening quiet once the sustain pedal was lifted up from the last chord of the piece. The quiet after the storm, rather than before.


Collecting my music books I would sling my backpack on my shoulder and slip out of the chapel just in time to see the sun making it's way up behind the dusky mountain range. My key would just be turning in the suite door in time to catch the awakening snurkling snore of a suitemate as the alarm started our day.