My Reach Exceeds My Rasp

I have no voice.

I spent yesterday afternoon talking -- well, it turns out, shouting -- in a noisy bar. And then last night in a Mediterranean restaurant, chatting the night away and watching a friend belly dance. It was a great night, but my throat is wrecked.

And I hardly even notice. I've posed on message boards, comment on blogs, and posted on my own blogs as well, and it doesn't even occur to me. I'm communicating just fine... or no worse than I usually do, anyway.

But then I go say hi to my wife, or make a phone call, and this inhuman croak comes out of my head. It surprises me every time. At this point, I can't even sing along with Tom Waits.



Rob
(He got himself a homemade special...)