As a young boy I loved to bounce a tennis ball off our neighbor’s garage. Because the garage was covered in bumpy stucco, the ball sprang off at crazy angles, requiring cat-like reflexes to catch it. Or at least that’s how it seemed – in my head. When I would make a Rod Carew-like stab of a blistering grounder, the crowd in my head would cheer (waaaaah!). When I missed, there might be some disinterested groans, or no reaction at all.
As I aged, the crowd grew. By high school the crowd was roaring for every “A” on a report card (WAAAAH!), but became disinterested as my athletic endeavors met with less success than the stucco grounders. When I shared a tender kiss with a beautiful young thing on the shore of a local lake the crowd sang like a choir of angels. When I tried for second base a couple months later with the same sweet girl, I heard some loud muttering and jostling among the denizens in my head. Apparently the crowd had a moral compass that I lacked. Maybe they knew that she was destined to become my wife, and they were upset that my hormone-fueled actions might mess up their plan.
In my early 20’s the crowd clapped and cheered most graciously at my wedding, but stared with jaws unhinged (along with 400 or so other uncomfortable souls) during my awkward thank you speech at the reception.
The crowd was particularly attentive during the premature birth and violent C-section of our first born, and knelt with me in the hospital chapel that long and snowy night while I made promises and deals with the big Mack Daddy in the Sky. When the next two kids were born without incident, I swear the crowd seemed as nervous and relieved as I was. And I knew the cheers I heard in my head those times were not for me but my infinitely stronger wife, who nearly died during the premature birth, and then breezed through the next two births with barely a stitched brow.
In my middle age, when I expected thunderous applause at remarkable feats of business acumen, the crowd merely clapped politely. But when I chucked the career in banking in my mid 50’s to become – of all things – a “writer” – I received the biggest cheers yet (WAAAAAAH…WAAAAAH…WAAAAH!!!)
Mostly the crowd has been supportive – a real partnership. One last thing. The crowd never actually uses words – it just makes crowd noise.
Actual voices in my head? Now THAT would be weird.
So let me introduce you.
Crowd, meet the readers.
Readers, say hello to the crowd.