Subourbon Mom


Loud Talkers in Bermuda

Nature has balances: night and day, sunshine and rain, Quiet Talkers…and me.

For whatever reason, I am “blessed” with a loud, scratchy voice, and a Woody Woodpecker laugh that reverberates around a room somewhere near the decibel level of a Who concert. Oh don’t get me wrong, it’s come in handy a few times, like when I was coaching and lifeguarding. Now, however, it’s a little bit of an issue.

images-3

We were recently in Bermuda for a work event, and I realized I’d forgotten how quiet Bermudians can be. I understand why Bermudians talk the way they do—softly, leaning in slightly, as if someone might overhear the conversation and report it to the Royal Gazette. Actually, that is exactly what can happen when you have 60,000 alcoholics, er, residents, clinging to a rock in the middle of the Atlantic. That’s a lot of folks on a 20-square-mile island with something to say, which they do with a wit that is funny and brutal at the same time.

I used to live in Bermuda, so I know how loud we Americans can sound to the untrained ear. Eventually, after three years or so of being there, I got pretty good at lowering my voice, but that skill has clearly been neglected since we moved.

When it comes to social events, my friend Bruce has a favorite saying: “If you’re at a party and you can’t find the asshole, it’s probably you.”

Um, I’m pretty sure the people at the event last week in Bermuda thought it was me. There were about 40 Bermudians in the room, and I’m fairly certain everyone turned at one point or another in the evening and tried to figure out one of three things:

1) how they could rescue the poor Quiet Talker stuck with me;

2) who that woman was with the man-voice was and why wasn’t she wearing her hearing aide? OR

3) who let the Southern version of Fran Drescher into the party?

images-12At first I was annoyed, and toyed with the idea of talking in my fake Long Island accent that makes my Southern skin crawl. (“Oh my Gaawud, Vinny…would you look at this gaawbage? I could get this at home for ‘tree daawllahs.”) But I was at work and had a professional image to maintain, so I decided to study the Bermudian Quiet Talker technique instead.

I have to say you Quiet Talkers have a way of drawing people in to listen to you that I envy. I never did figure out just what it was, except possibly my natural American inferiority complex, or maybe my American penchant for British accents, but either way I remained captivated.

Unfortunately, your verbal sparring is wasted on Loud Talkers. When you zing that witty insult at us, we often aren’t sure if we heard you correctly…so most of the time, we’ll just keep on plowing ahead, oblivious to your skills.

Yes, we are clearly two very different social species, but if nature didn’t provide some balance, and there were only Loud Talkers like me, the world would sound like a forest full of crows (or a tree full of Kiskadees, for you Bermudians), cawing and squawking at each other all day long. If there were only Quiet Talkers, the world would be filled with misunderstandings, because someone misheard someone else, rednecks would have to find some other way to communicate after a beer or six, and sports stadiums would sound like churches.

So in the interest of peace, diversity, and keeping sports teams employed, let’s keep the conversation going–we Loud Talkers will keep leaning in to hear what you have to say, and you Quiet Talkers keep leaning back and listening.

If the conversation stops, the silence will be deafening.

images-11


5 Comments so far
Leave a comment

That’s so funny, I think of Bermudians as being loud.

Comment by Fiona Rivaz

Wow–you would be completely at a loss if we were hanging out now! 🙂

Comment by libbyhall

Hey Lib, really enjoyed this one!!! Laugh out loud good!

Sent from my iPad

>

Comment by Ellen Armitage

Thanks! I wish I could be more quiet, but I think I was made like this for a reason–how else can I communicate with my teenagers? 🙂

Comment by libbyhall

Great story, Libby.
I was a quiet talker most of my life. Everyone one kept telling me to speak up or quit mumbling. This week I was told twice that I was talking too loud????

Comment by energywriter




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s



Just 4 My Books

My own curious world about books and writing

1XPAD.COM

WHERE EVERY POST IS THE LAST POST

SKYLARITY

Paradigm Shift, Mindfulness, and Personal Empowerment

Love Exploring Scotland

Explore Scotland through my photos and experiences. She's a beauty!

Drinking Tips for Teens

Creative humour, satire and other bad ideas by Ross Murray, an author living in the Eastern Townships of Quebec, Canada. Is it truth or fiction? Only his hairdresser knows for sure.

Today's Author

Fostering a community of creative writers through articles, comments, writing prompts and a healthy, supportive environment.

Subourbon Mom

Life is like bourbon: sometimes strong, sometimes sweet, sometimes it makes you tired!

Energy Writer

A passion for writing and energy healing.

The Byronic Man

We can rebuild him. We have the technology... Drier. Hilariouser. More satirical than before.

Leila Gaskin

I Write. I Learn. I Dream. I Live.

Skinny Dipping

Life is like bourbon: sometimes strong, sometimes sweet, sometimes it makes you tired!

Enter The Laughter

Life is like bourbon: sometimes strong, sometimes sweet, sometimes it makes you tired!

Snoozing on the Sofa

Fatherhood's Finest Hour

I've become my parents

Things my son needs to know before he grows up to be just like me.

Ned's Blog

Humor at the Speed of Life

%d bloggers like this: