Silence is golden, but not gold crown Caring enough to shush the very loudest

The newspaper will not pay for a massaging chair, and I cannot get my doctor to write me a prescription for medicinal heroin.

So, when I need to relax, I really only have one option left: I head to the Hallmark store.

Like Tiffany's, nothing very bad could ever happen to you there. Don't just take my word for it. Google "Hallmark" and "massacre." See? Hallmark stores are warm, fuzzy havens that attract thoughtful people. Giving people. It's a place where the ceramic-angel-to-customer ratio is about 11 to 1.

I don't go to buy anything. My greeting-card organizer is already stuffed with glitter cards, flowered cards, monkeys-in-Shriners-hats cards. My oldest card says, "So, you think this card is late? Well, let me tell you something -- I don't follow calendars and schedules any more. I celebrate when I want, where I want. I've changed my name to 'Coyote.' I am wild. I am free. I am Coyote."

I've considered deliberately missing someone's birthday, just so I could send this card. But that would be cheating.

No, I've got enough cards to get me through 2008. Instead, I go to Hallmark for the ambience. I wander back and forth between the "Sympathy" and "Thank You" aisles, inhaling the packaged potpourri.

Ahhhh. Serenity now.

Lately, though, I find my sanctuary is being threatened. At first, it was innocuous. As I was loitering among the plush animals, I could swear I heard a few tinny chords of "The Chicken Dance."

Not. Relaxing.

Sure enough, Hallmark went on the offensive to compete with the growing e-card trend. And I do mean "offensive." One card featured the Chia Pet jingle ("Ch-ch-ch-ch Chia!"), along with the words, "If you don't like this card right away, just wait a while. It'll grow on you."

Even worse? The hysterical customer cackling.

Now, just in time for Mother's Day, the company has announced that it's selling recordable greeting cards. The idea is that your voice will introduce a song. For instance, one reads, "No matter where life leads, my love for you is always right there. Just listen to your heart, and . . ."

After your heartfelt message, the card plays "Whoomp! There It Is."

(No. I wish I were joking.)

With a recording button, you can do multiple 10-second takes. But I have a feeling that most messages will be along the lines of, "HELLO? MOM? IF YOU'RE THERE, PICK UP THE CARD."

We've seen a lot of weird things go down in the greeting-card industry. Sweetest Day. Square cards that are smaller, and yet they cost extra postage. And then there was Hallmark's Journeys line, which came out last year and tackled such sensitive topics as depression, eating disorders and cancer.

(Yes. In rhyme.)

I almost yearn for the days that the only envelope-opening hazard was confetti. Now, you have to brace yourself in the event the card will bark at you. In the "Harry Potter" series, magic students dreaded getting "howlers" from home -- a screaming, scolding letter sent by owl, which bursts into flames upon reading.

Doesn't sound so much like fiction anymore, does it?

I don't mind the cards, really. If they need to literally add bells and whistles to compete in today's card market, so be it. Say it loud, say it proud, say it accompanied by the "William Tell Overture."

I just want my safe haven back.