| The Sound of Your Own Voice |
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| Written by Matt Landau | |
| Saturday, July 07 2007 | |
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On the elevator, I saw a man speaking into what looked like a thin cell phone. “Try and copy SCT lists for Monday” he said, as if noting it to himself for a playback at a later date. I found myself curious, not only as to what exactly these SCT lists might be, and why he might be trying to copy them, but also what that little device was and how I might go about acquiring one.  The greatest gift of science is not the rice genome but rather the gadget. Ever since I could move my hands as a fetus, I’ve loved gadgets and I’d like to think that all this time in return, gadgets have loved me. Whenever the latest and greatest was released, I had to have it and the captivating gadget ads were just icing on the cake. “Ever wish you had a full electric grooming kit that could fit in your front pocket?” a Panamanian infomercial once asked. Come to think of it, I said to myself, yes, just the other day I was thinking about that. I bought the kit over the phone but used it sparingly. I went to Multi Max to buy myself a digital voice recorder, just like the man in the elevator, and immediately put it to use in the checkout line, reminding myself of everything I could think up. Put clothes in dryer and collect ingredients for olive tapenade were some of my first recordings. I liked the voice recorder both because it was useful and because it made an impression on people. I used it to document various things such as new Spanish words I found valuable and funny jokes I could then retell at parties. People would look at me, during one of my recordings, and think to themselves either a) wow, this guy is important or b) ooh, this guy is a spy. I’d use it while sitting in traffic on Calle 50 as a fun way of passing the time: trying to record the entire Spanish alphabet in under six seconds. Playing recordings back in public was also impressive, like the time at El Rey, in the grocery aisle next to a beautiful woman, I played recording number four: Don’t forget to buy terra cotta plate to complete homemade smoker my semi-muffled voice said. I don’t think she spoke English, but she was awed nonetheless. There’s something deliciously narcissistic about the sound of your own voice coming out of a speaker. And within one week of having the voice recorder, I already had two new friends: a taxi driver and a hooker named Lena. The thing simply peaks peoples’ interests and brings the community closer. When asked what it is I am holding, I'll casually let it out. “Oh that? Let’s just say that’s my little way of getting things done.”
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| Last Updated ( Monday, August 11 2008 ) |
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