"You have his Voice"

I spent last weekend visiting my mom. It was very pleasant. Saturday we spent with Brother and SIL, and also a friend of Brother's from school that I know tangentially as well. Then Sunday was just Mother and me. We shopped, we cooked, and we talked. It was low-key and enjoyable.

One of the things we talked about was my dad. I advanced a number of the ideas that I have sketched out here: for example, that he strove to entertain people because he felt unsafe around them, and making them laugh was a way to ensure his safety; and that much of this feeling stemmed from his experience as a little kid, being bullied at school and being dominated by his mother (who was a whirlwind of energy). (See the discussion here and especially here for more details.) Also that he became an actor because he discovered that he was already spending every waking minute acting anyway, so why not do it formally for applause and (maybe) money? (Again, I discuss this point here.) Also that it was really, really important to him that people like him.

My mother agreed with every single one of these insights! And we told stories for a few minutes about how really good he was at entertaining people.

We talked some more, especially about how he had gotten so sick in his last couple of years. (See, for example, here, here, and here. And of course the dénouement, which comes here.) And she mentioned that he had remarked to her once, as an indication how sick he had gotten, that he could no longer use his voice to make people do what he wanted.

That threw me for a minute, though I tried not to sound too startled. Wait … my father used The Voice? The Bene Gesserit Voice from Dune? No, … clearly that's not possible. That's fiction. (Isn't it?) Calm down, Hosea. Breathe. This is reality.

So no, he can't have been using a special mind-control tool described as a piece of far-future science fiction. But—equally clearly—he must have practiced long and hard to develop a similar talent all on his own. In reality.

Then my mother said something that threw me even farther. Almost casually, she added, …

"You have his Voice."

I joked that I don't think I can make people do what I want, but at least I know I'm loud and can make myself heard. She laughed. [Extra points to the first reader who notices that I was trying to be entertaining to deflect an awkward moment, just like my dad would have done.] 

But actually there is a little more to it than that.

For example, "making myself heard" is about more than just being loud. It's about knowing how to project my voice to a far corner of the room (if need be), and that's something I know I can do.

And while I would never say (where other people could hear me, for sure!) that I can use my voice to make people do things, I have thought from time to time that I have a slightly-better-than-chance success rate at persuading people when I really try, because of factors that I don't always identify clearly. Is it that I can see what approach will work for this person which might not work for that person? Or is it something in my voice? (Or is there a difference between those two explanations?) I don't know, and I'm not even sure that the regularity exists. But it might.

I'm really not sure what to think. As you can tell, the conversation left me with questions to mull.

It was still a delightful visit.