Okay, so the story has already been done. We’ve read about The Hum, some of us have heard it and few of us really care. Or do we?
There was an era when the only time we were assailed with such info-trash was while standing in line, impatiently at the supermarket staring with nearly unanimous disapproval at gaudy, front page stories emblazoned across the front covers of smutty “news” papers. We have always known that the implied stories would not be what the cover wanted us to believe. One out of 100 shoppers would actually reach impatiently for a copy of the offensive journal but that was then. Now we are bombarded with fifty or so examples of the same tasteless torment every time we fire up the computer.
As for The Hum, I traveled hundreds of thousands of miles across America as a youngster and more than once I found myself near the huge, electronic monsters, marching across the land, delivering energy to all whose lives were being daily improved, starting each morning in every home in America with that first click of the switch. This motionless activity was always accompanied by The Hum.
As for Taos, in my Scottsdale Gallery Days, when business was slow in July and August, I closed the stores during the hottest of those weeks and conducted Cadillac Art Tours to Santé Fe and Taos. And yes I knew from whence came that mysterious humming sound. But I always played my audience. They decided what the myth of the month was to be about The Real Origins of The Hum.