Okay, Slowmover, now you sound like Woody Guthrie.
Bet if one were to go back and read past posts (or just start paying attention) he/she would find the voices of a plethora of great songwriters/storytellers in your offerings. Just offhand, I recall experiencing the cadence and visual representations of Steinbeck in several. And another of my favorites (although not nearly as famous), William Least Heat-Moon, the author of
Blue Highways and
River-Horse.
Might be time to park the rig and pick up a pen.
Agreed I wouldn’t call the in-perspiration’s original. Tired, should be my middle name. 3-5 books per week for almost fifty years left a gully to walk where it’s easier to hear the drumbeats from the past. The ones taken to heart.
Your ear is that good (yes, authors are familiar) means I’m not the only one should be in the choir. I’ll reverse the mirror of compliment with pleasure.
I think the next step is to practice reading aloud. Some way to record myself and have decent playback. The obligation to do justice to well-said or well-written description. Authors worth reading. I like to think I’ve been a diligent reader. Proof, they say, is in the pudding. A listener should hear what I’ve heard (read) by my being well-spoken when that’s the right thing.
Many years ago I was struck by a public service spot for the Radio Advertising Bureau
Radio, the appetizer of the mind
I found it self-evident truth.
To be on the road and at the wheel with changing vistas all about, the well-spoken phrase from across the radio could start one making a turn down an imaginary road. One was now in two places at once.
The desire for more of this experience led our people to create works of stage, be they plays or readings. We’d started by listening to our father, listened next to the pastor, and found even the raconteur at the tavern engaging.
The hall given to spoken voice was a natural progression. That there were men who made that writing a livelihood meant quality had become timeless.
It isn’t a fluke or happy accident.
To tie this to radio (Citizen’s Band) has been hearing the occasional host of a few minutes or over several evenings I'm passing by that any number have raised tired eyes from their beer when a blessing (often disguised) has been heard.
I’m not interested in a soliloquy on the hailing channel (19), but there is —for everyone reading this — that need for all of us to put to words what the heart knows. Make it,
well said.
What good is the equipment with nothing to say? Rather, when we know it’s important (the fleeting instant), being ready to recite is more than sounding words.
Arise from your school desk. The content is the form.
The recital is of using the equipment well.
(A tough crowd at this joint. Knowing)
Confidence in one’s radio equipment is natural. Worthy of pursuit. It’s said that the meek shall inherit the earth. Not the reticent or the dumb. But to him who holds back in action and lets words impart what’s true. Thus, the well-modulated voice. In all things.
If the whole of physics is in the end naught but sound & light, then what matters is in the beat of the heart and the control of breath for them to dance.
The music is in the spaces between the notes.
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