I love public radio. But sometimes, the local people are so dry. I was listening to one woman this afternoon. I swear, she sounded like she was 400 years old and her voice croaked like she had just woken up from a 300 year nap and these were her first words.
She spoke almost as if whispering. As if all the people listening to classical music would be rocked out of their snooty chairs if she spoke in a normal tone. I mean really, her voice IS her job. And she squeaked.
The difference sometimes between local and national radio folk on NPR is amazing. I remember hearing one national reporter on several occassions who had a lisp. You might think he’d be ineffective. But there was richness and passion in his voice, and to me, the lisp didn’t matter. I would much rather listen to someone with a speech impediment but a passionate, commanding voice – than a voice that sounded more like a quiet, but nonetheless rusty hinge.