Voices

Mr Goodvoice’s yardstick

I just realized that I married my wife for her voice. Can that be true?

Even when she’s angry at me and tries to speak sharply, she can’t quite manage it. Her voice is a permanent thing of beauty. And it isn’t something cultivated or trained. She was born with it.

The colors and textures in her voice are, I realize, a permanent magnet for me. As ridiculous as it sounds, I see now that I rejected possible friends and lovers because I could not abide the sounds coming off their vocal chords.

Knowing this teaches me something about myself. First, until now I never gave a thought to this deal-breaking rule I was unconsciously applying to everyone. A person could have an unfortunate nose, ears or Adam’s Apple without being banished, but an ugly voice is just more than I can bear.

I confess I feel a bit sheepish admitting this, but there it is. We can’t be friends if I can’t stand your voice.

It’s tone, it’s pitch and it is especially sensitivity to language I’m talking about. Some people use language like a sledgehammer when a scalpel is required. Some people only have the one sledgehammer where a whole toolbox is required, it seems to me.

I know it’s weird to go abroad in the world with a secret yardstick, but that’s not only something I have done, it’s…