Do you ever get sick of your voice? I know I do. Not your voice, I mean. Your voice is like the sound of an angel peeling a banana, one of those bananas that snaps right open at the stem with a generous give, not the reluctant bendy kind that puts up a fight until the whole tip of your banana is a reduced to brown mush when you finally get the peel open by splitting it along the seam, and then you have to bite off the tip with your teeth bared in order to prevent the mushy bit from actually touching your tongue, and then — ptooie! — into the nearest garbage or conveniently located compost receptacle. Your voice is lovely.
I mean I get sick of the sound of my own voice. But I’m stuck with it. Your voice is one of the few things you can’t change about yourself. You can change your hair, your eye colour, you can change the number of fingers you have (reduction only, unfortunately, a non-reversible procedure). But if you go around changing your voice, people think you’re crazy or Madonna.
Every two weeks I record my bit for CBC Radio. Each bit is roughly 3.5 minutes long, which isn’t that long, really. Three and a half minutes is the length of your average pop song. It’s long enough to pop 1.75 bags of popcorn in the microwave (popping times may vary). And like microwave popcorn, the content of my bits may be hot, but mostly greasy, salty and not especially good for you despite what you’ve been told.
When I listen to these pieces after recording them, sometimes I think to myself, “Oh shutup already!” And sometimes I think, “Why has science still not come up with the self-peeling banana?”
I know; I’m really selling my radio work, aren’t I? It’s the reverse psychology of self-promotion. It’s self-demotion.
But if there’s one thing I hate more than hearing the sound of my own voice, it’s telemarketers, and that, ladies and gentlemen, is what you call a segue.
For the piece linked below, which originally appeared on CBC Radio’s “Breakaway” on Tuesday, October 1, 2013 at 16:45 PST (popcorn standard time), I played with voices and sound effects to create a dialogue between myself and the world’s most generous telemarketer. I also put on a vaguely foreign accent because a) it’s a telemarketer, b) stereotypes make the world a better place, c) it’s not racist; it’s a homage, and c) Madonna was not available.
If you’re like me, and you say no to telemarketers no matter how good a deal they offer, have a listen. Maybe you’ll find we have a lot in common, i.e. maybe you’ll likewise get sick of the sound of my voice.