The Primordial Sense - Oct 12

 

The Primordial Sense

Oct 12 2023

The disembodied voice

that was so mellifluous and measured

and spoke like an old friend

always addressing me 

as the listener;

singular, that is

an audience of one.

Is there anything more intimate

than a voice in your head

you carry with you everywhere?

Just yours;

not shared

impersonal

corporate.

No incidental listeners

tuning in and out,

and no competitors

for his attention

intent on every word.

Not a communal experience

with all its distractions;

candy, crinkling as it's unwrapped,

a couple

canoodling in the back row.

And not sound washing over them

as background noise

to make them feel less alone.

But rather, the two of us conversing

in a private tête-a-tête,

picking up where we left off

last time we met.

Perhaps because sound

is the first sense;

a mother's muffled voice

well before you were born,

the whoosh of blood

with every beat of her heart.

And only sound

can startle us

before the brain

can even process it.

So when he went off the air

I felt lost

abandoned

a void.

Where had he gone?

And why had I not realized

the power of this attachment?

And yes, it was a conversation

I did talk back.

Quietly, of course.

The headphones

muting the world

until it seemed to fall away.

While going directly into my ears

and contained in my head,

that familiar voice

only I could hear.

It used to be public radio, listening live. Now it's podcasts, on demand. But both are essentially the same. At its best, an intimate one-on-one experience. As it's been said, the pictures are better in radio; the theatre of the mind.

If you’re a fan of CBC radio (I should say were a fan, back before it became almost unlistenable) and are old enough, the late great Peter Gzowski might come to mind.