Monday, November 17, 2008

Talking To My Arm

I’ve taken up a new hobby. And yes, you’re going to laugh, but that’s a good thing… After all, this is supposed to be a humorous blog…

My new hobby is ventriloquism. Why, you ask? Why would someone take up something that is considered a dying art? You might also ask why I took six years of Latin in school, which is considered a dead language. It’s because I fly in the face of convention. Because I fly in the face of popular opinion. Because I also fly in the face of good taste.

But, for you to really understand, I’ll have to let you listen in on a conversation with my alter ego.

Me: Meet Sophie, my dummy.

Sophie: Who are you calling a dummy?

Me: Sophie, it’s just your designation. One of us has to be the person. The other is the dummy.

Sophie: You picked the wrong one.

Me: Sophie is also my inner critic.

Sophie: There’s a problem with that. Have you looked at the end of your arm?

Me: What?

Sophie: Your ‘inner’ critic is on the outside. More specifically I’m on your arm.

Me: Yeah, I know. But this is a really big thing for me. You see, normally I talk to myself a lot. Now I’m talking to someone else, so I don’t look as crazy.

Sophie: You’re talking to your arm.

Me: No, I’m talking to you.

Sophie: Do I have to repeat that ‘end of your arm’ speech?

Me: But it’s different when there’s somebody on the end of my arm.

Sophie: Somebody? I’m a piece of material, a little vinyl, with a hand up my …

Me: Whoa! This is a family blog. Hey, you know, this ventriloquism thing is a lot easier than I expected.

Sophie: Excuse me, dear… But there’s another problem. Most ventriloquism is done when people can see your lips.

Me: I’m keeping it simple at this point.

Sophie: Simple, yeah, yeah. Why did you really pick this hobby?

Me: Why do you think there’s another reason?

Sophie: The arm knows all.

Me: Okay, you’re right. Actually, it’s all about psychology.

Sophie: Explain.

Me: I need therapy. I’m self-employed. Can’t afford a psychiatrist, so I’ll settle for talking to you.

Sophie: Do you know how sad that is?

Me: Of course, I know. But you already know I have a split personality. At least now it’s in a socially acceptable format.

Sophie: Socially acceptable? Do you realize how uncool ventriloquism is? Good grief, woman, don’t you realize that, while cars will at least swerve to miss a mime, they’ll actually aim for ventriloquists?

Me: Whatever you say. Which brings up the other psychological reason for this hobby. I’m not assertive.

Sophie: That I’ll go along with. You’ve got all the backbone of a salted slug.

Me: Thanks for that visual.

Sophie: So, what you mean is that I’m here to say the things you don’t have the nerve to say?

Me: That’s the gist of it.

Sophie: That’s a little pitiful, don’t you think?

Me: Welcome to the craziness of my mind.

Sophie: Actually Christee, I’m happy to be here. It’s the only place I feel at home.

Me: Hey folks, we’ll be here all month. So you’d better move on to another blog. And don’t forget to tip your waitress…