NOTE: this piece works best if you’re familiar with the phonetic alphabet, which I barely am myself; so, I hope I used the right symbols.
* * *
I grew up in a two-story home where no one took the time to walk up or down the stairs to talk. We just yelled to one another. My name become shortened from “Josh” to –
Mom: {pitch moving down, then shooting up} “…ɒɒɒɒɒ…!”
And instead of “Yes?” I would reply –
Josh: {same pitch variation} “Yəəəəəəəhhh…?”
To this day, no one in my family can leave a goddamn room to find the other person, make eye contact, and calmly ask a question. Even my 83-year-old grandfather still calls out to his wife like –
Grandfather: {same pitch variation} “…æææææ…!”
(Her name’s Pat.)
One day, I’m going to be walking by a burning building and hear someone screaming for help like –
Person: “Aaaaaahhhh…!!!”
I’ll be like –
Josh: {hand to ear} “Aaaaæ — Brad? Is there a Brad nearby? I think a member of my immediate family wants to speak with you.”
