yaphet kotto sings no songs
One of the benefits of being sick is that it gives you more of a deep and raspy voice. It is a voice with character, and it makes you sound like a man who has spent a night of debauchery so unfettered as to earn you the experience of waking up in a Guatemalan prison without the benefit of knowing exactly how you earned it or precisely where you left your pants. There is blood on your shirt. A loud and brightly feathered toucan taunts you from just outside the bars, and his shrill bird laughter is like a sewing needle in the ear. Life quickly simplifies, and you pray without ceasing for God to smite the toucan.
We've all been there.
Anyway, I find singing the songs of Lou Rawls to be the best use for the sick voice. You can even impersonate Mr. Rawls over the telephone if the person on the other end is sadly unaware of Lou's passing. If not, you can pretend to be the ghost of Lou Rawls.
I'd like to take my sick voice with me when I am again healthy. It is so much better than my healthy voice. It probably only sounds like Lou Rawls in my own head, but the voice of Lou Rawls is smooth as a hot-buttered anesthesiologist on a tin roof in the middle of August. It is the complete opposite of shrill toucan laughter, and the false sense of having the voice of Lou Rawls is still more than most men stumble across in their quiet and desperate lives.
But sometimes my sick voice more resembles Yaphet Kotto. I can then can act out scenes from Live and Let Die or the first Alien film, but that only gets one so far.
Yaphet Kotto sings no songs. He is a bit more interesting than I assumed, but you're not "gonna miss his lovin" as you would Lou's.
Still, I wish my name was Yaphet Kotto. A "Yaphet Kotto" is not to be trifled with, and the man bearing such a moniker is surely impervious to the common physical ailments that afflict each of us from time to time.
Should a son be born unto me, I will christen him "Yaphet Kotto Camino", and he will go on to things far greater than blogging while on cold medecine.
posted by Rex L. Camino at 5:51 PM
3 Comments:
See that is the problem with different names. If the last name is plain, the first must match it. If it is different, like Mr. Kotto's, the first name has to be different. He couldn't Bud Kotto, it just doesn't work. My parents didn't understand this principle and that is why I ended up Hutsey Erickson. 2 last names as a whole name. The best of intentions, the worst results. Damn, I should be blogging this.
Perhaps Yaphet is the Cameroonian equivalent of "Bud". Then again, it could be their "Hutsey".
I have always been partial to the cajun names, though I have no cajun connection.
Should a male heir ever spring forth from my loins...he shall be called:
Gaston Thibbideaux Fat
Post a Comment
<< Home