Posts Tagged 'Pecha Kucha'


My latest strange vocal phenomenon is, I hope, a secret between my ears and the hearing aid, especially since I’ve discovered that the forthcoming Pecha Kucha presentation is to be done with a microphone. The problem is this: every time I say a word with ‘sh’ in it (which is quite a lot), it sounds like I’ve got a comic set of badly-fitting false teeth. Since I’ve actually got a comic set of badly fitting real teeth, there’s always the worry that the hearing aid is restoring to me a sound which I haven’t previously been able to hear, rather than mischievously creating a new sound which doesn’t actually exist.

My long-suffering and tactful colleagues assure me that, contrary to what my ears are currently telling me, I don’t sound like John Hurt playing John Merrick in ‘The Elephant Man’, but if the Pecha Kucha audience runs screaming from the building on Thursday night when I take to the stage, I’ll know it’s finally time to make that long overdue dental appointment.

Never do today what can be put off till tomorrow

This little piggy is wearing the spouse's glasses

I’m panicking. I’ve had about five weeks to prepare for a Pecha Kucha event  which involves talking about 20 images on a topic of your choice, each image strictly timed to be shown for 20 seconds. It’s been organised by my colleague to take place in four days’ time and, as usual, I’ve only started putting it together today. Over the last week I have considered and rejected a variety of potential topics, including the rivetting ‘The Psychology of Walking’ which would have described in intricate detail the primitive behavioural mechanisms engaged when one encounters a stranger who is walking irritatingly alongside at exactly the same speed on the walk into work. Also rejected were ‘Things That Make You Do What You Don’t Want To Do’ which would have featured the paranoid thought processes induced by  daringly deciding to ignore notices such as those saying ‘please use tongs’ at cake counters in shops, and ‘Who The Hell Put That There’ which would have itemised, amongst other things, the many annoying things I’ve tripped over at work recently.

After all that, I’ve settled on ‘How Being Short Sighted Increased My Vocabulary’ which describes how I very creatively evaded getting glasses for nearly ten years after failing a school eye test at age seven. It’s a potential car crash mixture of biography, ancient Mesopotamian Cuneiform writing systems and myopic experimental pigs playing computer games, and it’s either going to be a barnstormer or end up in me being booed off the stage. I may discard the hearing aid on the night just in case it’s the latter…


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