Ears Don't Lie

Friday was another gloriously sunny day. After the dog walk, I came home to read but first, on a hunch, I opened my front door to see if my iPad had been left there as it had not arrived in the mail. And there it was! 

I spent the better part of the day trying to get the pad properly linked and operating, and then I had my first signing lesson with Gus. He’s wonderful. I am going to see him weekly, just as I see Michelle. I’m excited to have another source of clarification on things that confound me in my course.

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I try to ignore politics. All so much of the news does is to increase my cynicism and despair. But on the CDC news on Radio 2, they played audio clips of both Biden and Trudeau, and I was struck dumb by what I heard.

It wasn’t the content of their message; it was the phoniness of their way of speaking. I have no opinion about Ontario’s Rob Ford, but he’s a bad reputation in the voices I hear. However, he speaks like a normal person. Everything I hear from him, I believe, comes from his own mind and mouth. He’s authentic.

When Biden speaks, I hear the incompetent mouthpiece of a cabal of advisors. When Trudeau speaks, I hear an actor. I don’t believe that a word of what he says is his own.

I used to look through magazines when I was young, and on-line later, to find an image of a person. I sought photograph’s that I felt could fire my imagination. People in odd situations or positions, in dramatic settings, or in provocative posture with other, or others, in the shot. Then I cut out or download and print the image, paste it into a scrapbook and then write a story about the person in the picture. I loved doing that; creating characters without plot.

It was a writing exercise for my imagination and writing, from a visual stimulus. Hearing Trudeau and Biden shocked my imagination in much the same way. But with auditory stimulus. I could say that I hear well, but not in reference to content, but to tone, pace, pitch, structure, volume, transitions, patterns, imperfections, accent (linguistic) and accent (emphasis). Perhaps my fascination with speech is why I love writing dialogue so much. And how odd to have this long-nurtured passion and speech impairment.

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Kanopy is my favourite streaming service by far, and it’s free. Because it’s free. Last night I watched On Broadway on it, and what a wonderful experience it was. I love theatre and I love musicals. It’s a history of Broadway that I didn’t know, illustrated with great, but very short scenes of actors and producers and directors reminiscing, past monster hit shows and performances. Plus, in a big way, the producers/theatre owners. I loved it.

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I wrote about my ‘Chris and Frani’ incident. It hurt me and confounded me. I felt bullied. And then I thought about another thing: something I’d read about FND. Reading about the history I read in one article by an eminent neurologist, the author believed that many witches in history would, today, be diagnosed as having FND.

That left me more emotionally understanding how maladies without tangible sources have long been misunderstood. And my C&F experience was just another one telling me that many still do. A doctor in the hospital last Summer when I was in due to a heart attack was another. It’s judgement and prejudice. No wonder I was hurt.

I’d been experiencing fear of acceptance a lot since I developed my symptoms. That belief also has helped me put the experience with C&F to rest: I want to accept if I want to be accepted.