Say What?

Remember the first time you heard your voice on tape? You probably said something like, "That's not what I sound like!" or "Is that really what I sound like?" It's quite a difficult thing to come face to face with yourself, vocally at least. Over the years I have become increasingly aware of the nasal timbre of my voice. In my mind I have the very expressive booming bass voice of authority, able to stop small children in their tracks from across a crowded playground. I have been told that I do not have "an inside voice." Still, much to my chagrin, when I hear myself echoing across the yard, I wish I had just a little more baritone and not quite so adenoidal.
With all of this self-doubt, you might guess that I am the shy and retiring sort. Instead you can find me inflicting my voice on individuals and groups throughout the course of each and every day. When I was ten, I got my own cassette recorder, and I made hours of hilarious comedy - primarily for my own amusement. Years later I was asked by a friend to lend my vocal chords to some commercial spots he was preparing for the college radio station - the terror and the pleasure. Hearing me with lots of production and sound effects was very gratifying, and terribly embarrassing at the same instant. When he asked if I wanted to sit in on his show, I jumped at the chance. When I hear the tapes from those shows, I often wonder what it would have been like if someone else would have said all the clever things I managed to say.
This afternoon I watched myself on video tape, teaching a lesson about music and slavery. Not only did I flinch mightily at the periodic warbles, but I had to endure my middle age paunch at the same time. What did I notice? I noticed that I talk a lot. I have a lot to say. I want people to listen to me. My fourth grade audience is my captive audience as I pontificate on the Middle Passage and the slaves of pharaoh. God, how I love the sound of my own voice. What feels like an eternity but is actually half an hour later, I move on. Most of my kids are still breathing, but paramedics may be necessary to get them back to a more responsive state. Why do I talk so much?
Tomorrow morning I'll be at it again. Guess who they give the bullhorn to when they want all the kids to line up and say our daily affirmation? That would be me. If you hate my voice on tape, wait until you hear it through a bullhorn.