I used to think there were few things worse than hearing the sound of my own voice played back to me. That nasally, frenetic, aimless voice that rambles through the bramble like it’s in no hurry to get anywhere.
Anyone like hearing the sound of their own voice played back? Nope.
But the other day I realized there is something so much worse: Like watching myself on old family videos. Realizing in full color and high definition not only what I sound like — a marauding rock slide — but also what I look like to the real world.
And the truth is: I look kind of like a lunatic.
My daughter was on the computer watching old movies when she frantically called me in: “Dad, you have GOT to come see this.”
“Oh great!” I replied. It could only mean something side-splittingly humiliating.
There I was, in one of the race cars at Walt Disney World. The car was heading for turn No. 1, and I appeared to be doing the filming while “narrating” the entire experience. But in such a way that led me to believe someone had drugged my morning coffee.
“Woohoo!” I screamed. “This is awesome. Wo! Oh my gosh. Now it’s bumpy on my butt! BUMPY ON MY BUTT!”
At one point I blurted out, “Wo! A bird!” and panned the camera quickly to the right as the car slammed hard against the rails.
“Yeah, yeah …” I said, turning to walk away as she laughed. Make fun of dad! But, so what? Disney World is supposed to be fun. And even more importantly, you’re supposed to make other people have fun. And clearly that was all I was doing: Sharing that joy. Helping someone else get the full … um … uh …
“Wait a minute,” I said to my daughter. “So … who exactly am I riding with in that car?”
“That’s just it,” she said, cackling. Cackling! “That’s what’s so funny. There’s no one else IN the car. It’s just you! You’re by yourself. You’re talking to YOUR-SELF!!!”
And here she lost it in hysterics.
GASP!!!
I lost it in a different way. Like in movies when they use that cool, disorienting camera effect — zooming in while panning out. It signifies that a character has lost his mind and the world is crashing in on itself.
I don’t just look like a lunatic, I thought: I actually AM a lunatic. This is the way I act in public, and I caught it myself, on film!
This is the danger of videos: Seeing yourself for who you truly are. Not the guy who you thought was pretty dapper, relatively normal and even a bit mysterious. No, instead I’m the guy who ends up on YouTube in a video titled: “Crazy guy at Disney screams ‘Bumpy on my Butt!!!’”
This … is … me … Who I really am, I guess. Family videos can be very humbling. Not to mention coming to terms with how you might be an absolute lunatic, and in desperate need of a little therapeutic help.