Now Hear This!

My husband says I don’t “translate well to cyberspace.” Mostly what that means is that, contrary to general popular belief and the attitude of my ex-husbands, I am less offensive when you can actually hear my voice as opposed to just reading it. Apparently, my husband is not the only one who thinks that. My dear friend Christina, upon seeing an email reply I had drafted to a student once, said, “Man, you are a…well, let’s say ‘witch.’” I prefer to think of myself as succinct and forthright. I try to tell my students that email is a concise form of immediate communication--and IMing and texting shouldn’t happen at all--and if they want in-depth conversation to come to class and we’ll bond. Which we do because I can talk at length in a lecture (by definition) and they can hear my tone, inflection, pace, and pauses (unless they are being fiendishly clever by hiding their Ipod earbuds under their hoodie). And that makes a big difference. I get in “trouble” all the time because it seems the average person’s eye is not calibrated to pick up sarcasm. If they don’t hear it, they don’t get it. Honestly, sometimes if they do hear it, they don’t get it, but there’s a better chance if I’m actually vocalizing. I’m a speech teacher and an actress--sound is vital to performance. In Al Perkins’ The Ear Book, tribute is paid to those little speakers on the sides of our heads. All hail the ear!

http://www.amazon.com/Ear-Book-Bright-Early-Books/dp/0394811992

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Al_Perkins_%28children%27s_author%29

I Feel The Earth Move Under My Feet

When people think California, they are interested in three things: Hollywood, the beach and earthquakes. The first two inspire glamour-envy and that last one makes everyone fear the shake zone. But I was in Tennessee during a tornado warning once and that one time was more than sufficient. The sky was a weird, ominous yellow and the air was filled with impending doom. I swear I could hear dramatic music the whole time. I’ll take earthquakes any day, thank you. And living smack-dab on top of the San Andreas Fault, one of the first things you learn as a Southern California kid is what to do during earthquakes. In fact, earthquake-preparedness--getting in doorways, under tables, away from windows--is so deeply ingrained in us that my brother John and I each caused an embarrassing public scene when beepers we had on vibrate went off the first time. What do you expect? He and I rode out the 1971 quake together in the middle of our parents’ careening four-poster bed. He was also the first call I got years later when an early-morning trembler trapped the very pregnant me flailing around like a turtle on its back while my roommate yelled for me to get to a doorway. Yet, even with all that exposure, I still can’t imagine the experience of San Franciscans on the morning of April 18, 1906. In Earthquake, Milly Lee tells a survivor’s story through her grandmother’s eyes. Maybe that day a tornado wouldn’t have seemed so bad.

http://www.amazon.com/Earthquake-Milly-Lee/dp/0374419469

http://www2.visalia.k12.ca.us/library/millylee/index.htm