Friday, October 10, 2008

Silence is Golden

Unless it is because of laryngitis, which I have. I can't produce any noise above a whisper, unless you count that high squeaky sound that peeps out of my voicebox when I laugh. It started with a cold that did it's usual number on my voice, the "usual number" being one where my voice drops a few whole notes and takes on a rhaspy quality. I've been told it's not unappealing, in a Kathleen Turner kind of way. So, that's fine with me. Annoying as colds are, I can survive.

But this morning... nothin doin, no voice. And I think it is highly amusing, I have to tell you. It's just weird that I go to talk and no sound comes out. People's reactions are really funny, too. Some of them will whisper back to me, like we're sharing a secret except that we're talking about where my car is located in the parking lot (to the grocery carry-out girl) or how the other person is doing (in casual conversation - how are you? fine, how are you?). Some of them have looked at me like I've stopped taking some important medications that make me sane. And others look at me as if I am a completely rude snob who refuses to say hello, but only mouths "hi" and nods.

The only real hinderance is when there is background noise, like my sister running some water. Nope, can't be heard over that. Nor can I be heard over any radio, or by my children in the backseat of the car when I am driving, or if anyone is emptying a dishwasher, or calling me on the telephone in a place where there is one iota of sound besides my whispering voice on the other end of the line. I have already adapted somewhat and have resorted to clapping my hands in a short and sharp series to get my children's attention. I can also whistle a tune, but I am whistle deficient when it comes to those loud piercing whistles that could grab other's attention. I am headed to a crowded festival this weekend.... that ought to be interesting. Let's hope I get some vocal power back soon, or else I'll be out there with a small notebook in my back pocket and pen perched behind my ear. Dorkarific communicado.

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