Why this Voice Talent voted the way he did
Gotta love Politics
First of all, allow me to congratulate you on making it through last week, and not going all-out-psycho and killing everyone with a hammer.
Who did I vote for? It was an easy choice, really, when you think about it. There were only two candidates, and I had to choose one or the other. Had Wall-E been an official candidate, I would have chosen him, because I think he was great at sorting out the garbage, and looking cute as a button while doing so. I would also at this point like to ask how buttons are cute.
So who did I vote for? Isn’t it readily apparent based on everything you know about me? Well, it should be.
I voted for the candidate that had the best ideas, the best principles, the best vision for America. I voted for the one that I felt could best steer us into the future, without looking back and plowing us into a parked car, or sending us veering off into a precipice. The one who I felt epitomized what we all felt, and personified the most ideal leadership that we as a country needed and deserved. Not that 2020 has been especially trying in any respect, after murder hornets, close-calls with asteroids, Kobe dying, pandemics, Harry and Meghan abdicating, impeachment, and losing 007. That last one truly had me shaken and not stirred. And then Alex Trebek died. I'll take "Ways in which 2020 sucked" for $800, Lord.
Did I waffle in my choice? Perhaps here and there, as I truly do enjoy a delicious waffle. But overall, I wasn’t looking for someone with high carbohydrates, nor someone who was syrupy sweet. I needed balance: a good happy medium between the crazed and the calm; the hyper and the hypnotic; the spastic and the spry.
I think I chose wisely.
Because just look at who won…and look at who didn’t. In fact, if you could just pop me a quick email and let me know, that would be great, because there’s nothing more delightful than trying to decipher real-time election night results with a preschooler and toddler bouncing all around you craving foolish things like food and love. I’m not sure which gave me more stress. If you’ll kindly borrow my children for a few days I’ll have a moment of peace to sort this out while I drink out of this sippy-cup I found mashed into the crevices of my couch.
Oh wait – not until four days later did they even have it sorted out yet. So now, it’s time to make like Buttercup and moan wistfully, “I will never vote again.” Because if any other election results take as long as this past one, I’m taking a personal vow to become a mummy, so that I may sleep. I've had enough of being glued to my TV set, and I'm sure you feel the same. Trying to process all of those election tickers and differing electoral counts across multiple networks gives me the same type of synapse misfire I get when I try to pronounce Chiwetel Ejiofor.
Why I voted for My Candidate
We never really want to tell people who we are voting for. We fear confrontation and extreme disowning. Telling someone who we voted for is an activity that we usually choose way down the list after having a root canal performed while completely naked and being licked to death by penguins as Mariah Carey stays on those high notes.
Even the tamest humans are capable of instantaneous transformation into active volcanos if you decide to utter even the opening syllable of their anti-candidate. Therefore, we keep it neutral. As Brian Regan says similarly in the sports vein, we say, “Go! Go my favorite sports team! Score a goal-unit-basket! Beat the opponents…soundly…in the…skirmish!” Keeping it general allows us wiggle room enough to preserve relationships and not murder each other. We can always TP their house later if we find out that they voted for the other guy.
But why I boldly voted for My Candidate, and why I proclaimed it online, was because I am not afraid to say who I voted for. Because I’ve:
- been TP’d
- been in skirmishes
- stared down active volcanoes
All of those are true except for the last one. I didn’t just stare it down. I actually was wearing TP while skirmishing while inside an active volcano. While riding a missile. And juggling laser knives as I dueled with an alligator. While being shot at. Which my cape deflected.
I’ll miss you, Beloved Political Voiceover Nonsense
It might just be a big covfefe mess, but I actually liked it: all the political voiceover work I’ve been able to garner over the past few months. It’s been nice: reading scripts that are designed to spew venom from one human onto another human, vilifying their reputation and casting aspersions up and down their being. It pays well. Brian Regan has another great one on this. It’s nice that no one knows that that voice is me, and I’ve enjoyed the relative anonymity of supporting My Candidate. You know: the one for whom I voted.
I’ll miss all the delectable debasing, the succulent slander, and the tasty tarnishing. The only thing cooler than receiving a paycheck for saying nice things about nice people is receiving a paycheck to say mean things about nice people. Because I’m sure that both men, deep down, are actually quite nice. No, wait: hear me out here, whichever side of the aisle you’re on. I understand that you want to keep your distance and hurl stones from afar. I get it. I truly do. When I was 9 years old I hurled stones from the roof of our garage onto passing cars, and it was one of the most enjoyable and rewarding experiences that ever got me spanked. I got off mom’s knee, wiped away my tears, grabbed the nearest pile of pebbles and ascended to the roof post-haste because I’m a quick learner.
Face it: throwing rocks is fun, and you know it.
But deep down, I’m convinced that both men are endowed with goodness. In their own minds, they’re convinced that their way is right. Just like Hitler was convinced. Deep in their own principles, they’re self-assured that their approach is the best. Just like Saddam Hussein was. Within the scope of their own morality, they’ve no doubt that their way is the way. Just like the nice man who just whipped across four lanes to take the off-ramp with less than 100 feet to go. All of these men were determined to enact change, God bless ‘em. It’s just that one of them might be a smidge less Hitlery than the rest.
That’s why I voted for…uh…the one guy that I did. I think the only worse thing I could have done would have been to:
- not vote at all
- join Amway
- streak nude through traffic with a salamander in one hand and a ukulele in the other, or
- Not vote at all while streaking nude through Amway traffic with a salamander in one hand and a ukulele in the other
There! Have a great day with your/our new President. Onward with no fear of our future!
PS, if you really want to know who I voted for, I’ll tell you. I voted for the Presidential Candidate That I Voted For. There. Phew! I feel so much better now that I got that off my chest! No more hiding. Can we all just get back to normal now please? I'd be grateful if you can send a handyman over to peel this TV off of my face.
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