This is my voice


I have no tongue. It was amputated when a tumour was detected. And I cannot speak. So this is my voice...a month of reflection, 10.000 words on what it is like to be a tongueless wonder - mixed with the trivial, the banal, the irrelevant, the 'has nothing to do with', the poetic, the imagined, the grotesque and the ridiculous. A month of faith and despair. To what purpose? None whatsoever...this is just my voice.


Thursday, 10 December 2009

Social life - I

The social life of a tongueless wonder is an inevitable casualty of my disability. However, I am a solitary bugger and the restictions on socialising do not cause me a great deal of distress. However, there are certain aspects of my social life that I share with the normal run of people (Who is normal these days? The massive consumption of densely-populated entertainment does not seem to be of the essence of a full life) - so I offer a few thoughts on and around the same.


Eating out
My post on eating evokes the difficulties of eating in public. And even the most indifferent of tongueless wonders will shy away from performing the sludge dance in full view of other restaurant goers, mainly out of simple pudor, but also out of respect for those who may accompany him. And that is assuming the restaurant is prepared to reduce its renowned 'coq au vin' to an unsightly puré or there is something on the menu that qualifies as a puré substitute (thick pea soup, or onion soup with lots of bread, for example) - both extremes that cannot be guaranteed. Of course, you can go to the restaurant with a companion or your favourite debating society and not eat anything - but then you have to weigh-up if your companion or society members merit such a sacrifice. And if you do not eat, is it fair you should be called upon to respond for your share? It's best not to take any chances  - the eating spectacle should be confined to the home.
Needless to say, the simple act of popping into a cafe or bar to have a coffee or whatever is unthinkable. It is absurd to carry a 6-inch syringe around with you to load it up with coffee or coca-cola or whatever, and doubly absurd to sit or stand while you lift your shirt to free  a catheter. I affirm that it is unthinkable - but it is possible. I can assure you that my sort of disability arms you with a certain disdain (or indifference, with a touch of malice) for the  majority of the pagans that occupy the public space, so much so you will be quite capable of going into a cafe, extracting your catheter and syringe and pumping yourself full of your favourite beverage, merely to watch the reaction it provokes and wallow in it. Neverthless, it is not advisable to load drinks that are too hot or too cold, while fizzy drinks could cause an intestinal disaster. The consumption of wine or spirits by the catheter method, in a public place or in the quiet of your home, is not recommended - it could put you out for a good long time.


Parties
Parties are the maximum expression of a social life. The party is the market in which you as social currency are quoted. Sometimes your rate of exchange against other guests is higher, sometimes lower. It is a market in which all of us, as sociable people to one degree or another, must trade. There are all kinds of parties - dinner parties, cocktail parties, birthday parties, Christmas and new year parties (since it is that time of year), house parties, garden parties or barbecues, receptions, gala dinners - but thay all pose the same challenge for a tongueless wonder. Of course you can participate, even with all the limitations on eating and drinking that I have commented along the line. But your tonguelessness will reduce your worth as social currency - your quotation will plummit, and you will be worth less than a Peruvian sol in a Moroccan suk. 'He's a quiet one,' they will say. 'An observer.' Your host will be the only sympathetic interlocutor. The burden will be on you. There is only one party-like environment where your tonguelessness will not mermar your worth  - a discotheque, the noisier the better. At least, I assume so - I have only ever been in a discoteque once in my life, to find out why I should never make a repeat visit.


Cine, theatre and other audience sports
This kind of stuff is more readily accessible. It does not require any sacrifice on your part nor on the part of the establishment. However, the noise created by the act of constantly cleaning your mouth, especially in a cinema or a theatre, could be misconstrued by some punters. This risk is obviated if you go to a football match.



To be continued...



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