Talking Fountain

Look at these. 

Now, picture goldish ones of these. 

And, picture me, a young (thirsty) college girl in the first of many visits to the Seattle Tacoma Airport on my way to 4 years of brilliance training.  I needed it, because brilliance was not yet in my bag of tricks.  (As you will no doubt note.)

I was sitting in one of those airport chairs stuck together with all the other airport chairs when I spotted the water fountain across the people infested corridor between the bathrooms.  Good.  I was thirsty.

As I approached, I saw the small plaque that read, “Talking Fountains.”

My brilliance meter now begins to drop.  Really far.

I mean, what does one SAY to turn on a Talking Fountain?

I stand over the higher one and say in a regular voice:

“Turn on.”

Nothing.  Maybe I need to be closer.  I lean over, about 4 inches from the drain holes, thinking maybe that’s where the sound enters the turn on receptors.  And I talk faster.



Nothing.  Hmm.  Maybe it doesn’t understand me.  I lean over closer.


Still nothing.  After completing a thorough inspection of the fountain in an attempt to locate some sort of speaker I’m supposed to talk into, finding nothing, I try again LOUDER into the drain. 

“TURN.  ON.”

Well, shoot, this thing is broken.  These are broke.  Mine er broke.  Oh ya, I’m not Julia Roberts.

(Remember, it’s not as if I’m taking a red-eye flight and there are no people in the airport.  It’s the middle of the day.  The only good news is that no one seems to be thirsty at this exact moment.)

I’ll give it one more try…thirsty and getting frustrated.

“TURN!  ON!” 

Nada.  Fuggedaboutit.  Blasted thing!  I’ll find a NORMAL drinking fountain somewhere else.

I turn back to look at those stupid fountains one more time…(Why? I don’t know. I already have too up-close-and-personal of a relationship with them anyway)

….And saw…

…the buttons. 

Seriously, they were camoflauged.  I swear.

Well, Why The Heck Do They Call Them Talking Fountains If You Just Have To Push A Button? 

I push it and, lo and behold, water comes out!  Talking Fountain, ya right.

And when the water goes down the drain, it makes a loud gurgling sound. 

T-A-L-K-I-N-G.  The fountain talks. 

NOT the idiots who drink from it.

–  The Goat Cheese Lady


About The Goat Cheese Lady

I am Lindsey. At first I was a city girl. Then I was an urban farmgirl, attempting to balance city and farm life. Now, after moving to the country, I have embarked on life as a rural farmgirl, complete with my husband, the Animal Whisperer, man of exceptional knowledge and patience, two boys who are louder than my sister and I ever were, a herd of milking goats, and a flock of egg-laying chickens. Coyotes, mice, country dogs and prairie dogs are frequent visitors. Just 45 minutes north is Colorado Springs, the setting for our first six years in the goat world. Our family. Our city friends. Our introduction to cheesemaking. But we...and our growing farm and soon-to-be creamery...have set up shop down off of Highway 115 in Penrose, Colorado.
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One Response to Talking Fountain

  1. langdon says:

    Lindsey, that’s brilliant! Well, not brilliant, obviously, but fantastic nevertheless. Your faith in technology far surpasses mine.

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