Sunday, November 23, 2008

The Worst Thing That Could Happen To Me

This week the worst thing that could possibly happen to me happened.

I was covered in angry bees.

Nay! It was worse than that! I lost my beloved voice! Yes, the dulcet tones you picture as you read my profound prose was vanquished from my larynx via an infection caused by "acute chattiness."

Since we're all friends here I can honestly say to you that me without a voice is likea peanut butter and Cap 'N Crunch sandwich without the Cap 'N Crunch or a tranny without tuck tape or a pedophile without a mustache. Yeah, it's like that.

You wanna know the worst part of it? It caused me to become something I loathe...

A MIME! What becomes of a man who becomes what he detests most? No really, what's going to become of me, because I feel absolutely awful.

For those new readers to the blog, I have this thing -it's just a small thing- I HATE CLOWNS. While I apologize for the overuse of the caps lock function, this I'm only so limited in my options to share my frustration. Clowns are awful things that hide under your bed, steal your other sock, put the toilet seat up right before you go take a dump, and sell people into the sex trade. They are dregs of society. These parasites are the basest of human kind and, as I've often stated, must be stopped.

Given the mime's close relationship to the clown by virtue of awful make up, and propensity for annoying / upsetting behavior, I also hate mimes. We Americans may not agree on everything, but I think the one thing that I find universal is that no one fucking cares if that mime ever gets out if it's imaginary box. Frankly, I hope the box is made of steel and is placed out in the desert so that bastards bake -but that's just me, I think outside the box, I guess.

I have been fortunate in my life (knock on wood) to avoid most medical problems, aside from an injury-induced case of epididymitis & a tumor in my butt, but those are stories for another day. Because of this, I make for a positively awful patient. Compound this with the fact that I had lost that most treasured tool of the performing class, the natural voice.

In all honesty I never realized how much I used my voice until I didn't have it. The process went from mild frustration in not being able to communicate a story about the homeless man who opted not to stand up when the urge to urinate struck him to the total helplessness of not being able to say, "yes ma'am, I would like another Cinnabon, please." Before long I was complete relegated to the world of hand signals and striped, skin tight shirts.

Given my esteemed utterly useless, waste of a degree, I have a developed "sense of my body in the space." It wasn't long before I found myself using "my instrument" to better my day to day life whilst stricken with the affliction and embracing my inner, unwanted mime.

I know how much you kids like your bullet pointed lists, so here's an overview of where my miming took me:

  • Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home is a good movie. Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home as retold by me dressed as Marcel Marceau, using nothing but a tire swing, a tape of whale mating sounds and a little bit of Gumption is a great movie.
  • You know what is better than working from home? Miming working from home. The work is much easier and makes my brain less hurty.
  • I discovered my new love of suspenders. While I initially found that their support provided me with an unwanted cameltoe, I quickly discovered that simply adjusting the straps created a look that was both supportive and fashionable.
  • I had never gone repelling before for fear of falling and for fear of having to use my enormous, mostly cosmetic arm muscles. But I found repelling to actually be a delightful activity as a mime. There's no danger of falling off an imaginary cliff and I find fake rope to be far more gentle on my carefully moisturized hands.
  • People annoy me. I really just haaate the stupid shit people say. Do you know how to sidestep this problem? Befriend mimes. Don't like what their acting out? Much like your stages of early development, close your eyes and they cease to exist! Just like my first wife.
  • Performing in a cabaret has never been so liberating. As a cast member of the wildly received What's the Point??! (see the post below) I have felt a lot of personal satisfaction. However, like any performer, I too struggle with insecurities. Will I crack on this note? Will people like my interpretation of the song? Can I make sweet, sweet love to the hottie in the third row? You can avoid all these crippling questions by simply miming the song. And fellas, ladies love mimes. Fucking weird, but true. Just ask the hottie in the third row.
Oh, the places you'll go....

Fret not friends my voice is back and I'm using it to make up for all the dick & fart jokes that I could not communicate while rendered mute. So that's nice; you know, I feel like I'm giving back to the community that way. So on this eve of Thanksgiving weekend, I urge you to not take anything for granted. Depending on what you believe, God, aliens, and/or your mom provided you with a voice. Share your gift with the world. Who knows, tomorrow you could become a mime.

1 comment:

Hector said...

Yay! Glad to hear you've got your voice back. For those of you who witness Patrick miming-in his performance in WHAT'S THE POINT?! last Friday, you truly missed a wonder of flexibility and nuance.



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