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It’s our Grand Re-opening! What could go wrong!?
Welcome to America, where we have everything you could ever want or need, and then a lot of things that you just don’t want, like ever. Not even a little bit. Things like:
- Michael Bolton music
- Waiters asking you “if you’re still doing OK” every thirty seconds
- Rush-hour at 7am, 8am, 9am, 10am, 11am, 12pm, 1pm, 2pm, 3pm, 4pm, 5pm, 6pm, 7pm, and 8pm in all cities of all counties of all states of all regions everywhere
- The phrase “I know, right?” This is both a statement AND a question, therefore, it is a questation (which goes wonderfully with cocktail sauce, by the way).
- Time alone with in-laws (I just experienced a pain I couldn't locate)
- Public meetings about wearing masks attended by people not wearing masks
- The phrase “I was like, whatever.” This is an unfair declaration which leaves far too much of your identity in question, as we’ll never figure out what exactly you were like
- Hold music reminders to remind you that you’re still on hold (although I do appreciate the 573 reminders that my call is very important to you, which began six days ago)
- Too many commercial breaks with too many commercials
- And Turducken, which, as you may have guessed, is deboned chicken stuffed into a deboned duck stuffed into a deboned turkey
Since we don’t have time to cover everything, let’s spin the dial. Oh look! We landed on Covid-19. Odd, that! The funny thing was that 8 out of the 10 prize wheel wedges were Covid-19, so it falls to me to now cover this most unpleasant element. I know, right?
States are re-opening. Or are they? There’s talk of thrusting children back into schools. Not readmitting them, mind you, but literally thrusting them, as through a Play-Doh spaghetti maker. Restaurants that were once open and then closed and then reopened and then closed are now opening again in order that they may close soon. There’s so much confusion that there should be a new Change.org petition for the word “open” to mean the same thing as “kersplutchenoink”, since it obviously doesn’t really mean “open.”
So as a voiceover artist, are you open for business? Or closed? Or kersplutchenoink?
All Americans must be accompanied by an adult
Americans are bizarre mammals. We’re strange, overly-entitled creatures that insist on being offended at many a turn. We have itchy trigger fingers and cantankerous predilections towards oversensitivity. If David Attenborough were asked to narrate a Planet Earth special on Americans, I’m confident it would sound something like this:
Ahhh, the American human. If you look closely, you might find one just there: lying on the sofa, Pinot Grigio in one hand, People magazine in the other, entertaining mindless blather while they lie dormant in the lawsuit library, preparing to steel themselves for their next class-action lawsuit. Eyes glazed over with absolute lust for entitlement and a fondness for Cancel Culture, the American human is a curious species, equipped with unflinching ability to be grossly offended at any moment at even the remotest trampling of their perceived rights. All it takes is one wrong move, and *viciously loud and staccato tail whip sound here* whoops! Never saw that coming, did you, cake baker? We’ll see you….in the Supreme Court! *jump to commercial break with too many commercials*
We’re all so worried about being restricted, and we take offense at everything. I’m reminded of Anne Frank and the Secret Annex. As Americans, we’re asked to quarantine for a teency-weency amount of time, a drop in the bucket really when compared to Ms. Frank’s veritable two-year incarceration, and our butt-cheeks clench at the sheer audacity of such a request. (However, after unclenching, I was actually able to make 42 diamonds from coal and purchase two islands in Guam as a result, so, it’s all good.) I know, right?
What’s the point of all of this? Am I trying to make a political point? No, not one, except of course to stay healthy and safe. Because they’re out there. You know of whom I speak. They’re the Maskless Ones. The Potentially Infected. The... *cue scary orchestral strike here* ...COVID-19-CARRYING CRAZIES!!!! The sad truth is, many Americans simply don’t want to don the M-word. It doesn't make anti-maskers bad guys; heck, even Darth Vader wore a mask. It's just a tricky issue all around.
This can be scary, I know. We want to catch the coronavirus as much as we want to be rear-ended by a Semi-truck, smushed against a concrete wall and then swallowed up by an earthquake and trapped in magma while missing our favorite show on TV. I assume our only solace would be that all that time it’s probably been a commercial break.
So, to alleviate all of the hysteria and fear, and perhaps introduce a little motivation to defend voice talents, I’ve decided to usher in a little bit of my marvelous Dada abilities. After all, as a voice talent, I’m a storyteller, and my kids know it. So I shall regale you. Pull up your blankie and sippy cup, and let’s do this.
The Scintillating Saga of Victor & Vicky Voiceover and Carl the Curiously Coverless Covid-Guy
I shall tell you the Scintillating Saga of Victor & Vicky Voiceover and Carl the Curiously Coverless Covid-Guy.
There once was a man named Victor,
who was blessed with a Boa Constrictor.
His life just couldn’t be stricter, as predictable by any predictor.
But then he happened upon Vicky,
who ‘til then was a house still bricky
He didn’t want just a quickie – nay!
He assured her he’d be most sticky.
So sticky they stuck right then, and traded rings in the glen
Saying “I do” again and again, they moved to a cozy little den.
The bride learned Victor is a Voice, after studying many a choice
And this made her rejoice, despite his lack of Rolls Royce.
They went through their merry life, with ne’er a note of strife
With happiness, oh! They were rife: Victor and Vicky his wife.
Till one day came the corona, that now afflicts Arizona,
And the areas of Pomona and Barcelona,
and Latona, Ramona and Bona
And Farmington and Arlington and Darlington,
and Warmington and Hartington and Coddington
And Brockington and Partington and Washington
and of course the area of Warrington.
And China and also Medina,
Carolina and then Minah
And Spain, Champagne, Ukraine, Brisbane,
and Maine, Blaine and Bahrain.
And Italy, France and the south, transmitted by nose and mouth,
Before they were aware, the corona was everywhere.
But Victor was still quite shrewd; he avoided going full nude
He clothed up he (and Vicky, she) in masks and gloves to preclude
the chance of catching a strain of this virus that was such a pain
But one day they met their bane who was a man without a brain.
His name was simply Carl; and yet it seemed he had a gnarl.
“I shall go maskless and that’s that!” hollered Carl with a snarl.
“But don’t you see, I use my voice and need to be able to breathe!”
said Victor with a pleading voice, and just a titch of seethe.
But just then Victor and his bride were seemingly caught in danger
Because what happened next I assure you
was ever more the stranger
Curious Carl inhaled a breath and let out a naughty sneeze
And droplets of microscopic goo went flying in the breeze.
Had Curious Carl the Coverless Covid-Guy carried such care
and donned his mask like all else did, Victor could have been spared
But nay – the virus traveled out and landed in his nose
And soon, alas, its poison worked and caught him in the throes:
of woes and slows and lows and doze and flows, as Vicky knows.
And ultimately just all because Carl would not enclose.
The sad day dawned when Victor’s voice
would voice his voice no more
And on that day the numbers climbed and tallied an artist’s lore
For Victor passed and Vicky was left unto her own device
All because of Carl’s unwillingness to sacrifice.
The moral of this saga is not meant to bring you down
But rather to remind you all that there are those around
Who use their Voice to lift you up, inspire and make you bound
And they can only do their jobs with lungs that can rebound.
So wear a mask! Don’t be like Carl: it’s just a little thing
We’ll never get dear Victor back; and for Vicky that does sting.
But hopefully, in time this curséd virus will depart;
And ‘til that time let’s all mask up, and stay six feet apart.
We’re all in this together…in these uncertain times
We’re all just trying to find our way on many of our last dimes
So let’s do try to help each other pass this time with ease
Until we gather again and say, “Pass the Turducken please.”
Have a pleasant time re-kersplutchenoinking.
*jump to commercial break*
HEY. WAIT JUST A S.E.C.!
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