While I have absolutely no talent for singing, I hvae always been blessed with a very flexible voice. I have a remarkable range, from the very deep to the very high. And I’ve had fun with that gift. On the low end, I can do an almost-passable Louie Armstrong, a frightening Freddie Krueger, and an almost-recognizable James Earl Jones.
And on the higher end, I can make my voice sound quite feminine. Not “Queer Eye For The Straight Guy” effeminate, but average-to-deep typical TV-voiceover feminine.
I’ve had a bit of fun with that little knack. When I worked switchboard in college, I used to have fun answering friends’ extensions with the Freddie Voice — “and what do you want?” And recently at work, I had a chance to trot out another one.
A very dear colleague from another location called for our fax number. One of my local colleagues passed the call to me, and I leaped at the chance.
“For the HOTTEST faxes around, just dial One… Six-Oh-Three… Five-Five-Five… One… Two… One… TWO.”
She burst into laughter, as I’d hoped she would.
As I hung up the phone, though, I noticed one of my bosses was standing next to me.
“Jay, you’re disturbing.”
Everyone’s a critic.