Q: What do masking tape, a door and 2nd degree burns have in common?

A: Gather 'round children as I regale you with the tale of "Ben's Obsessive Need For a Quiet Office".

Not all humorous stories in the Inkster household come from our two youngsters. Not by a long shot. Some even stem from those of us that call ourselves "responsible adults". This evening I decided that my office was not yet silent enough (even after installing the sound absorbing insulation). This decision prompted me to seek out the source of the sound leakage.

My search led me to the door.

The audiophiles in the audience will have already recognized that the door is a key component in a sound proof room. It is generally recommended to get either an external door (that's insulated) or a heavy, solid wood door. Whichever option that you should choose, you absolutely must have a seal in the air gap to prevent the sound from escaping (or entering as the case may be).

I'm pretty sure that my door is made of solid wood. Balsa wood.

As I do not have a spare door kicking around ("Hey Lindsay, have you seen that spare steel door?"...), I decided to do the next best thing and seal the door.

What works best to seal a door you ask?

I have no idea. But, I'm not afraid to try new ideas.

I tried masking tape. After about twenty minutes and an entire roll of the stuff I noticed that I still had an air gap of about a quarter of an inch. Also, I ran out of tape. No good.

Hmmmmm....

Inspiration struck! I could use hot glue to create a seal. Perfect.

So, I ran (not far... like about 5 steps) into the storage room to seek Lindsay's hot glue gun. After much rummaging, I remembered that it was in the desk right next to the door.

I don't know how many husbands out there actually keep close tabs on their wife's crafting materials, but I'm not one of them.

There it was at the back of the drawer, glowing in the pearlescent light shone down from on high like a sign from Heaven (or maybe just the fluorescent lighting in the basement). I pulled it out and realized that I would need more than the half glue stick that was loaded into the thing. So, back to the storage room...

... rummaging here for about 5 minutes ...

Back to the drawer. There were the extra glue sticks ... under the glue gun. Apparently I'm blind (but clever as our story will tell...)

Yes, now I was ready. I plugged the gun into the wall and waited for the glue to warm.

... time passed ...

The glue was liquid, the time had come. I closed the door and began to run a bead of glue down the crack on the hinge side of the door. Slowly, carefully, using about 400 glue sticks (give or take). I let the glue dry, then opened the door. Well, I tried to open the door. I had to give it quite the shove with my shoulder as I had just *GLUED MY DOOR SHUT*.

Man, I'm so smart. I suspect that I should have thought of that beforehand.

I did manage to get the door open with a tremendous snapping as the glue came unstuck and yes, the air gap was sealed. Victory!

Did it block the sound?

Well ... No, it didn't.

Hmmmm.....

Ah, yes. The top of the door had an air gap of about a quarter of an inch as well.

"I've done this before, I can do it again", I thought to myself and brandished my glue gun with the glowing red tip.

And before you can say, "DEAR MOTHER THAT HURTS", I was pumping searing hot glue into the crack just over my eye level.

I had nearly completed the job when an innocent little drizzle of glue fell from the tip of the gun onto my outstretched ring finger on my right hand. Don't ask me why it was sticking out, or even how I did it - have you ever tried to stick out *only* your ring finger? It's nearly impossible. In any case, the nerve endings in this unobtrusive digit began sending urgent messages to my brain at this point.

Did I scream out? Did I curse the day I was born? Did unwholesome words escape my lips?

No.

I held my tongue. In Proverbs, Solomon admonishes us with the phrase "Even a fool is counted wise if he keeps silent..." (see Proverbs 17:28)

Instead, I calmly wiped the glue away with my other hand.

Those of you who are "crafty" will recognize the folly of this reaction. Better to scream once and be done with it. Now three fingers and the palm of my left hand were beginning to send the aforementioned urgent signals to the brain.

Quote from the scene:

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!"

So, is the door sealed? Does sound leak? Is my lair completely sound proof?

Who cares.

I hurt. I'm going to end my story and go soak my blistering fingers in cold water.