Wednesday, May 28, 2008

airport voice

i'm at the airport, heading out to the west coast for yet more listening events. of course people-watching is a field day out here, but it's the people-LISTENING that's all the more fascinating. most memorable so far: 1/2 of bundle of girl twins strapped into a stroller larger than my car, bellowing the swine verse from that popular childhood favorite, (note related finger puppet set. 100% felt!) when mom leaned over and reminded, in quite the outdoor voice, about using her indoor voice. sounded indoor to me...inside a barn, that is.

so yes. more listening events. if you're in or near the portland, OR* or san francisco areas, please consider coming out for a night of pure audio love** this saturday (may 31) or sunday June 1) night. they're going to be fun.

* i always feel bad designating this portland as being in OR, when san francisco needs no further elaboration. but with the other portland featuring so prominently in the audio world these days, seems only fair to do so, rather than assume that folks will automatically think 'pacific northwest.'

** am not sure if this phrase helps or hurts my cause. but i mean it in a tolerable, low-key way.


Jacob said...

Hi Julie,
My friend Andrew Gill told me about your blog and some of the things you're doing. Exciting! I'm an independent radio producer, and am hoping to make it to some upcoming Chicago events. Anything I should watch for? Best of luck in west/northwest coast land!

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rob.braswell said...

I yelled at my kid in an airport once. She's a great kid, and she thinks I'm a great dad, but we yell at each other now and then. Every time it happens I look up, and I swear, there's someone standing nearby. Not looking at me, but you know, I could tell she was just looking at me, but had just looked away quickly*. I never thought this would happen, but at least once, I'm pretty sure, I yelled at her to be quiet. It's embarrassing. So, anyway, where the hell do you get 100% felt Old MacDonald puppets**?

* This may have also happened in a book by Nicholson Baker

** Good god, who knew?