ONCE UPON A TIME, I LIVED IN A HOUSE WITH NO TV, PRETTY MUCH LIKE EVERYONE ELSE AT THAT TIME. WE DID HOWEVER HAVE AN LARGE, GREY AND GOLD PLASTIC ZENITH RADIO SETTLED ON THE TOP OF THE REFRIGERATOR, IT CRACKLED FORTH THE MUSIC AND THE NEWS OF THE DAY, EVEN LONG AFTER TV BECAME A FIXTURE IN EVERY HOUSE, IT FILLED THE HOUSE WITH WELCOME SOUND. MY MOTHER WOULD SING ALONG WITH IT, HER OWN COMIC VERSIONS OF HER FAVORITES.

“True silence is the rest of the mind.

It is to the spirit what sleep is to the body, nourishment and refreshment.”

William Penn

1644 - 1718

I don't listen to the radio anymore, unless I am driving the long and lonely back roads, it has been years since I used the radio in my house, in fact I am not sure that there is even a radio in the house.  There are times when music is a gift, and times when silence is a necessity.
Quiet has become the preferred mode, often the only sound is the ticking of the clock. 
One by one  all of the distractions, or what some might call noise pollution, that can be turned off had been, this started out to be an experiment, just to see what it was like. 
At first it was very strange, not to be surrounded my the sounds of electronic  people.  I often felt as though I was missing some important bit of newsfact.  When I would turn on CNN to see if I was invariably, I wasn't.  I grew accustomed to hearing the sound of my bare feet on the floor and the wind in the spruce, the sounds of traffic and the sounds of an old house.  But best of all I grew accustomed to hearing my own thoughts.