Cancer spokesperson. Gorgeous jewess celebrity. Made famous by her voice.
I've loved Fran ever since I first saw Saturday Night Fever. ("Are you as good in bed as you are on that dance flo-ah?")(Hehe. Queens accents.)
What I love slightly less is when people compare my voice to hers. Especially when I'm sick.
Over the years my voice has also been compared to Gilbert Gottfried, Ned Flanders, a grocery store loudspeaker, Dori from Finding Nemo, some cartoon monkey from the Discovery channel or something, Chandler's girlfriend on Friends, the list goes on and on.
I don't know what's wrong with people. I don't go around telling them they look fat in those pants.
Okay . . . I might.
But still, my voice is virile and manly. (No matter what voice recordings play back. Those things are notoriously unreliable.)(Camera's add 10 pounds. Microphones add 10 octaves.)(And a severe adenoid problem . . . )
The other day there was a birthday party at work for a little kid. I walked past one of our utility rooms to see my friend Meghan filling balloons with helium.
Hel-lo! Brain cells be damned - I'm TOTALLY gonna inhale some and it will be AWE-SOME!
I took a good lung full and ran into the hallway to find my friend, Mary Ann.
Chad: (In total helium voice) Hi Mary Ann!!
Mary Ann: Hi.
Chad: Don't you notice anything different?
Mary Ann: Uhhhhh . . . no.
Chad: (Helium wearing off) Really?!?!
Mary Ann: Are those new shoes?
I walked away defeated. With my shoulders shrugged, but my voice held high.
I'm going to need to embrace this voice of mine or it could be my downfall.
If only I had a hilarious accent to go with it. (Damn you, Colorado)