Calling in sick just isn't what it was

You know, when I'm not tirelessly working away in my booth recording the next gripping installment of health and safety videos for power plants, I still work in an office. As much as I would love to declare myself a full time voice over artist, the wife insists that I keep a roof over our heads and food on the table.

So, those of you who also work in offices will surely find a way to relate.

Right now, I have a nasty cold. I'm saying cold because I have not been to the doctor, taking valuable time out of my day to be told that I have a virus, that there is nothing they can do about it and that the best thing for me would be fluid and bed rest. You don't even need to log in to NHS Direct for that kind of genius diagnosis - you can actually do it yourself. All you have to do is wake up feeling a bit rubbish and just assume the rest yourself.

I mean seriously, I don't know if your doctor's office is anything like mine but they always chime in with "Is it something you feel you need to see a doctor for right away?" Well how the hell would I know? I mean it might be nothing at all or it might be very serious - I simply don't have the medical training!

Then they tell you that there's nothing available for 2 weeks, so you ask if you could see them any sooner and, hey presto, an appointment is available tomorrow. It happens every time and the people at the surgery don't think that the more intelligent amongst their patients might have actually figured out the system by now. None the less, we soldier on and in this instance, I've decided not to bother negotiating for an appointment - I'm fairly sure that Lemsip will do the trick.

Now here's the tricky part. Assuming that you didn't get a formal diagnosis and follow the same path as me, you're now left with the daunting prospect of phoning in sick. As close to death as you might sound on the phone, there's always that little voice in your head that tells you, "Sound more ill. They don't believe you. They think you've just had a heavy weekend and that the Tequila hasn't quite made it out of your system yet." Yup - calling in sick on a Monday is ten times worse than any other day of the week.

Fact is that you could video call in from an oxygen tent and you'd still be paranoid that they don't believe you. The problem there is that the 'voice' can sometimes backfire:

"Hello (cough for effect), yeah I fell off a ladder and I've broken my leg"

"Well what's wrong with your voice"

"Technically nothing - I really was just going for sympathy"

GAME OVER - GET YOUR SORRY ARSE TO WORK RIGHT NOW.

Part of me wonders what would happen if I were a full time Voice Over. You see, before I started feeling proper nasty, the first thing to go was my throat. Not enough to stay home from work but not pleasant all the same. Trouble is, my voice isn't working properly, and that means that unless I've been cast in a commercial for a cold and flu remedy, I'm pretty much out of commission until my voice gets better.

It's weird, but being self employed in the world of voice over really would be a dream come true for me, but a simple sniffle has got me quite concerned, because even a few days out of action could seriously jeopardise my next dinner.

Have fun - always.

Keep it Consistent - or I'm Off!

Aside from the hours that I spend behind the microphone every day, I always top up the payments on my private jet by working in a sales environment. It comes in very handy when putting myself forward for corporate work, as twenty five years in sales has given me a natural tone which people find reassuring. I don’t know about you but I personally hate being screamed at by some children’s presenter in a suit. People just don’t like being sold to, but they do love to buy. Those aren’t my words, they’re the words of one of my favourite sales gurus - Jeffrey Gitomer.

Jeffrey has written loads of books and given talks and seminars around the globe that have helped bad sales people become good, and good sales people become unstoppable. He has an enthusiasm which is truly infectious. if you’re in sales, I highly recommend checking him out. 

He also produces a weekly newsletter, as indeed many sales training people do, and that’s what’s inspired this week’s blog.

You see, I subscribe to a number of these newsletters and eZines - seriously, how is that even a word anyway? Week by week I receive what I consider to be good guidance from sales professionals whose experience and knowledge I respect. Sure, there’s a lot of stuff that I’ve heard before and that’s fine, but as long as it’s useful, I’ll read it.

Today, that all went wrong. Now I won’t name the sales person in question because it would not be fair to them (I’m saying them instead of him or her so there are no clues). For the past few weeks I’ve been reading what this person had to say with great interest. They had some great tips and even turned me on to a new type of service which I think could do wonders for my business. I became excited about receiving the next installment, because a simple five minutes out of my day to read something could really bolster my figures right? WRONG.

Today, this person started going on about the Laws of Attraction, and how visualising something can make it real. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m a great believer in that sort of thing. I’m all for a positive mental attitude and I am often amazed at how someone who I haven’t thought about for 10 years will pop into my head and then come back into my life within a week. This stuff does happen - I’ve read The Secret. Well, I say read, I’ve got the audio book on my iPod but it’s just not the right thing to listen to on a 5 mile run.

What annoyed me is that this ‘guru’ had taken the basic elements of The Secret, changed a few words without changing the message, and then put it out there as their own wisdom. I don’t have too much of an issue with their blatant copying - we do it all the time. What bugged me is that this person went in a totally different direction with his training, and it was totally without warning too.

If I want a bunch of crystal wearing, naked chanting, tree hugging, vegetarian, soul searching sentiment then there are plenty of places that I can go. If you want to market yourself in that space then that’s fine. Perhaps you can offer a free yoga session to everyone who buys your book - no doubt printed on recycled paper by farmers who are happy to be paid in love rather than actual money. But if you want to teach people how to succeed in business, telling them to smile and be positive is simply not good enough.

They tell me that ‘Whatever I believe, will be reality’. Interesting, I believe you’re about to lose a subscriber.....incredible...this stuff actually works!

Learn to speak properly

You know, there are a number of things in life that really wind me up. Subscribe to this blog and within a few weeks you'll come to think of me as someone who really shouldn't be entrusted with any sort of firearm. Seriously, I'm a five minute walk from the Big Brother House here - surely no jury in the world would convict?

That said, my biggest gripe is the death of the English language. Now don't get me wrong - I'm not one of these blokes who walks around in a tweed jacket, smoking a pipe and thinking that we should all be reading Shakespeare over a nice cup of tea and a slice of Battenburg, but I do think that the way people speak has taken a bit a downhill slide.

People have just become so lazy haven't they? In my role as a sales person, I've spent a good number of hours on the phone to some very well respected organisations, and so my teeth really do grind together when I am greeting with "Good mornin'," or asked "Who's callin'?"

No - don't start imagining a West Country accent with all the charm that goes with it. I've no problem being greeted with a hearty "Good Mornin'" from a friendly farmer, perched aloft his tractor with a pint of scrumpy, chewing on an ear of corn. That I love, but some Chav who I can just picture with her fake tan, hooped earrings and Muppet of a boyfriend just serves to annoy me.

I mean, come on! When did the G at the end of words start to become silent?

Oh we can get lazier than that though can't we? The other day I actually heard someone say OMG - not text it, they actually said it with their voice. Now let's just think this through with some logic shall we? The words Oh my god have the exact same number of syllables as OMG - so there's no time saved there. But then what if someone overheard the comment and didn't actually know what OMG stood for? It happens - we're not all down with the kids. Well then the person has to explain it, thus taking over twice as long as the original comment and therefore making the entire abbreviation process UTTERLY REDUNDANT.

There's more - lots more, but I'll keep it to three for this week's blog and perhaps save up some more for next time. Recently the weather around here was very lovely - in fact it got a little too hot on one particular day. I commented along the lines of "It's getting a bit too hot out there," and the reply I got was simply "D'ya know what I mean?" NO! I know what I mean - you haven't actually said anything at all!

But let us allow this blog to become a forum. A chance for people to exorcise their demons with the written word, as opposed to a pair of nunchucks and a misguided sense of social responsibility. Please add your comments - what mutilation to our language annoys you? Come on, let's take back our mother tongue!

Some things just don't need to be said

Now I make a point of watching the commercials on telly or listening to them on the radio. For me it’s a learning experience. Many of them use a quality of voiceover that I aspire to be. Sometimes you just hear a voice and you instantly know the product that they’re advertising. You know who we’re talking about, or perhaps more importantly, the brands in question.

Honda is one of my personal favourites. They use a guy called Garrison Keillor and his voice has the power to convince me that any product he’s talking about can be trusted. Any idea he mentions is sure to change the world. Let’s face it, if a company manages to hire a voice that gets you reaching for your wallet before you even know what you’re buying, then they have hit the jackpot.

Sadly, the majority of adverts in this country are a learning experience for entirely the opposite reason. These are the adverts that have the general public wondering just how something so awful could have made it onto the air. “Did they run out money?”, “Where do they find these morons?”, and so on.

| bet you’re thinking of one right now aren’t you? I am. There’s a double glazing company that employ this bloke with long wavy hair but nothing on top to essentially shout at you about their special offers. I can’t remember the name of the company, where they are based or what their phone number is. Now that’s what I call powerful advertising!

But there is the third breed. The advert that is produced well, voiced properly and edited nicely. It’s just that the script is utterly ridiculous. My personal favourite is for a firm offering laser eye surgery. “All of our procedures are carried out by experienced, qualified surgeons”. Well thanks very much! I was rather hoping you wouldn’t let the new work experience girl have a crack at my eyes with a massive frickin’ laser! Sure, she makes a lovely cup of tea but surely we have to draw the line somewhere.

We voiceovers are hired to interpret the words and bring them to life. We do the best we can with what we have but we have all of us learned not to question the wisdom of the copywriter, the director, the producer, the client’s representative - even that work experience girl with the big frickin’ laser.

And so to my quest. I want to put together the top 10 worst adverts of all time - as voted for by you. They can be poorly acted, badly shot, scripted by monkeys or voiced by people with the personality of grouting - whatever it is, post your comment, ideally with a You Tube link so I can see it for myself, and the results will be posted here soon, so stay tuned.

Speaking at the Airport

Even though it’s a good two months before the family and I head off on our holidays - yes, I know, I’m working through the summer months whilst everyone else goes off to play melanoma roulette - I keep thinking about checking in at the airport.

Now the security people would have us believe that the security has been beefed up a lot in recent years. I’m sure it has, and it’s given rise to every cliche you can imagine whilst waiting in the queues:

“Of course, it wasn’t always like this, but what would you prefer, waiting an extra five minutes or getting on a plane with a terrorist?”

Interesting point, is there a third option where you get on the plane with the terrorist and I fly somewhere else? I’m thinking Florida....

The thing it, despite all of this new security, we’re still getting asked all the same questions as we get ready to pay an extra twenty pounds because our luggage has gone over the limit by half an ounce. It’s not my fault, my wife Shelly has never found a decent hair dryer in any hotel room ever, so she insists upon packing her own bloody salon in there! I’m allowed to make hair jokes - I have none of my own with which to make fun.

Again, it’s always the same questions - “Did you pack the bag yourself?”, “Could anyone have interfered with your bags?” blah blah blah. Now I don’t know about you, but I think that the terrorists........prepare yourself.......I think that they may have worked out the right answers.

I mean what did they think was happening on the 10th September? “Ahmed, what do you have for question one?......Oh, so I did pack the bag myself, wow that could have been really embarrassing.”

And we’re all absolutely terrified to try and make a little joke when speaking with the check in people. What do we think is going to happen? An immediate strip search just as soon as I suggest that I allowed some random stranger in army gear to pack my bag for me? It’s like the second we’re confronted with people in authority, our body language tells the world that we are guilty. It doesn’t matter what we’re guilty of, we just are and we really should be taken straight to prison - or hell - whichever is closer.

So if you should happen to work at airport security and have found this blog whilst googling job opportunities, I salute you, because most of us are apparently more terrified of you than we are of The Taliban. Hmmmm - putting that word into a blog - I wonder where else this is going to show up now?

And so it begins

As a voice artist, I’m often asked to look at the multitude of different dialects that we have throughout this wonderful world of ours.

I certainly have my favourites - I enjoy some of the Eastern European dialects, which is handy if I ever want to get work on a building site. Of course, first I would have to learn a little something about building, because if it’s anything more complicated than putting up a shelf, you’re really better off calling the professionals. 

Amongst my very favourite though is Welsh. Ah Wales - the country that gave us Tom Jones, Catherine Zeta Jones, Aled Jones and of course - Charlotte Church Jones.

Now in North Wales they are very proud of their language. All of their road signs are written in both English and Welsh - which is weird for place names because in most cases, the English name and the Welsh name are exactly the same. Maybe the sign makers were getting paid by the letter, so that’s a smart move on their part.

This is a language which is sometimes completely devoid of vowels. Seriously, there are words in that language that would choke an ordinary man before he got to the end of a sentence. It’s like melodic phlegm. And can you imagine what Welsh Countdown is like?

“I’ll have a consonant please.....and another.....and another.....and another......I think you know where I’m going with this” Thirty seconds later and they’ve managed five 7 letter words, two first names and the names of a couple of railway stations for good measure!

There are accents which lift the spirit, and there are accents which scare the living daylights out of people. I’m not going to name names here, because I’d hate to think my first blog was taken down on the grounds of incitement to racial hatred.

Anyway, in case you’re interested - I can do the Welsh accent if you need it.

Until next time.....