The voice

 

I don't hear it. I never have.

I recorded the latest edition of "The Owners' Box Horse Racing Podcast" tonight. I was a touch late to the Zoom call, and as I entered, I said my hellos when our guest commented on my voice.

"Wow. You really do have a radio voice," was along the lines of what he said.

And, yet, I don't hear it.

I've often felt it was too nasally. Too whiny. Sometimes too high. It has developed over the years and picked up more low end. More texture.

In truth, if I cared about singing (I used to but I suck) I don't quite have the range I probably used to.

It's funny, I can listen to Sinatra at the Sands thousands of times. Frank was turning 50 around the time of the recordings and there was talk that his voice was beginning to fade by then. He mentions he's turning 50 during the "Tea Break" monologue, which I often think of when pondering my own voice.

Given 50 is now in the rearview mirror.

Don't get me wrong. I love that people compliment me on my voice. It's certainly a fine thing to be known for, especially when those who knew my dad say I not only look like him but sound like him. It's a wonderful tribute.

I don't dislike my voice. I like that I can change it to do woeful impressions. I marvel at voice actors who can do such a wide variety.

So, when I hear the praise, I just don't think I'm worthy of that when compared to so many other marvelous voices in this world.

Still, it is nice (though a little embarrassing) when I walk into a room and I hear, "I know that voice." Or the times that people have stopped in their tracks, turned around to look at me, only to get a gaze at the rest of where that voice emanates from. I always feel like I'm letting them down when the curtain of the theater of the mind is lifted.

"That's not how I picture you," I've heard or there's my personal favorite, "You have a face for radio."

Pay no attention to that man behind the voice!

Notice I'm not capitalizing it. I'm not "The Voice." I have a voice. I suppose I'm the broadcast voice of various things but I'm not so full of myself to elevate to another level. I'm a voice.

And, sure, it's pleasant. My voice has done a few commercials of note (nothing major) along with a lot of things on WGCH and elsewhere over the years.

My voice has even auditioned for a few things, which I feel incredibly intimidating.

So, sure, I'm grateful for it, but I suppose I just try to remain humble about it.

But it is a very special gift because, if nothing else, I still have a nice feeling for what my father sounds like.

It's nothing special. It's just what I have.

There are many voices out there.

This one is mine.