In a world of senseless clatter and clang, just one man can bring tranquility to once-peaceful backyards. Garner Andrews stars in “Out of Chime.”

In my dreams, that’s how the movie trailer of my life goes. In my movie, I’m dressed in black (perhaps I have a dagger in my teeth because that would be cool) as I hop neighbourhood fences under cover of darkness. I cut and I run from yard to yard. I’m on a mission, a mission to rid Edmonton of the sonic plague that is — the wind chime.

My backyard is simple. There’s a deck, a fence, some grass and some chairs. It’s a peaceful place free of distraction, that is until so much as a butterfly breaks wind and sets off a chain reaction of wind chimes in all of the neighboring yards. Suddenly, it’s if someone picked me and my patio chair up and dropped me into a rock crusher full of xylophones and aluminum crutches. I try to focus on my book or whatever I’m doing — but I can’t. Wind chimes are like that open-mouth popcorn chewer at the movie theatre: once you take notice, you can’t shake it.

In my last three homes I have been surrounded by the not-so-soothing sounds of clanging metal and bamboo. I’m not sure what was going on next door at all my neighbours’ houses, but here at my current home in Edmonton, I have a tree. I can simply glance through any one of a number of windows and that tree tells me (with 100-per-cent accuracy) when it is windy and when it is not. I do not require an audio indicator.

Imagine if I put on a marching band uniform and sat in a lawn chair in my backyard and banged a bass drum every time the wind blew. Or perhaps I could score some men’s size 11 tap shoes on eBay and crank out a little shuffle ball change followed up with a shim sham shimmy whenever the slightest breeze comes up at 3 a.m. How long would you tolerate that? I’m guessing not very. So why must I listen to your wind chimes? And don’t tell me it’s about chakra or chi. That’s your thing, not mine. I align my chakras and supercharge my chi with silence. I am beginning to believe that wind chimes were invented so stupid people would know when it’s windy, or bald guys would know when to put an extra strip of two-sided tape in their hairpiece.

The part that bothers me most is the fact that you would never hang a set of wind chimes in your bedroom or living room and point a fan at them. Why? Because it would be far too annoying if you had to listen to that in your own house all day. Instead, you hang them where they can annoy everyone but you — your yard.

Listen up, neighbour, this is the summer I exact my revenge. I’m not sure how. I’m not sure when. But you are “Out of Chime.”