Did You Hear That?

Why is it that one's own voice, once recorded is no good? I've listened or watched myself preach plenty of times and I always think, "Do I really sound like that?" And every time, I'm told that I do. Creepy. But the big thought, the real question, is, "If we don't sound like we think we do, what happens to one's impersonations?" I pick impression-able fruit from many stylistic trees from Brian Regan and Patrick Warburton to the people in my social circle. Often, I think I do a pretty good job. But this thought shook my confidence to nothing. What if I'm really no good at it at all?

I try not to think in terms of "What do people think of me now?" or anything like that. But it is a bizarre moment when you question a fair chunk of one's comedic fuel. To my students especially, I sling about the diction and phrases of favorite comedians and personalities. Do they sit back and whisper to each other, "Doesn't he realize that he does a horrible Jeff Goldblum impression?"

The worst part, really, is that there's nothing to do about it unless I go obsessive-recording my own voice until I think it sounds like what I want to impersonate. I can see somebody walking in on one of these ridiculous sessions with the question etched in his or her face, and I would have to make something up because it would be far too embarrassing to admit. Furthermore, this is the type of thought that I never know is legitimate or not. And the more I think about it, the more I wonder if I'm normal or not, if I am the paranoid freak that I'm sure everybody thinks I am. Soon, I'm going to be huddled in a corner, whispering in strange voices, conversing with myself with as many different voices as I can muster and conspiring against those that look at me in strange ways, ready to scream, cry, and laugh all at the same time before they come to take me away ha-haaa.