Voiceless.

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So now that my daughter is in school . . . wait, let me pause for just a second and let that sink in. It happened so quickly.

Okay. Start again.

So now that my daughter is in school, our house is no longer safe from the primordial stew of sickness that is generated by this new collective of tiny people and the germs that inhabit them. Needless to say, I look forward to my immune system growing stronger through repeated illness. But for now, I feel . . . well, a bit like Clark Kent in Superman II when he gets cold-cocked by the trucker in the diner. Surprisingly and utterly vulnerable.

And last Friday, as the day wore on, my voice began to disappear, and Saturday morning it was gone. GONE. Nothing. I couldn’t make a sound, even if I’d wanted to. It’s still mostly gone today, though I can make make a sound without straining.

For just about the first time in my life, I felt no panic. Just certainty. Sure, it sucks, it’s terrible, very inconvenient, and not at all fun. But I still managed to have two of the most productive recording days of my entire life. And rather than worry about it, I just embraced it and shut my trap for a couple of days. I’ll be back on my feet in no time.

As everything else about life (and parenthood) has taught me, you always have two choices, regardless of the situation. You either keep going, or you quit. And since quitting is never really an option, you only have one choice.

My guess is that by the end of the week, I’ll be back at that proverbial diner, kicking ass.

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After all, I’ve been working out. In the meantime, I’m just drinking more tea.

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