“Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness.” — Samuel Beckett
Aside from dear Mom, I grew up in a house full of guys. We communicated like guys communicate, which apparently isn’t much different from how great apes and grizzly bears communicate: with lots of grunting and thumping and yelling. It’s effective, as long as you’re trying to communicate with other guys in your house who are used to communicating like guys. Mom was accustomed to it, and could even throw in the occasional bellow to get a point across to us guys whenever necessary. It wasn’t until I would later interact with non-Mom females that I discovered such an ability to interact with guys on our own terms was more of an exception than the rule among womenfolk.
And that’s not such a bad thing, really. But it’s an idea I had to get used to; it’s forced me to develop a more diverse communication palette when interacting with people who are more genteel, perhaps — not necessarily women, but folks who didn’t grow up with the whole “house full of guys” dynamic. I’ve become more skilled at painting a picture with words that suggest subtle shades and temperate tones rather than brusque brushstrokes in the harsh hue of neanderthal. I’ve found this to be of great help when conversing with Diana, who is quite a bit more soft-spoken than anyone in my family. If I only knew how to shout to get my point across, not only would I be even more exhausted by the day’s end than usual, but Diana would likely wind up hard of hearing.
I try to save my intrinsic outbursts for Geek Out rants about tech things since computers don’t seem to mind being yelled at, but I sometimes forget about the poor ears of our viewers. Maybe I’m more successful with subduing my vocal exuberance for these vlogs? What do you think? Feel free to comment! I can take it.