I Need To Hear The Next President.

I have never heard Barack Obama's voice.

By the time he was a nightly fixture and feature of every news and public affairs show on earth, I was as deaf as a wheel of cheese.
Now that I have a cochlear implant. It does give me some semblance of sound, and allows me to hear one on one conversations, most days. But I have yet to hear a "voice" on television or radio. I hear sound.

Sounds come into my t mic or internal mic and they are processed into a new digital form. Sound as you know it becomes a line of zeros and ones the size of a football field.
Then, through the wonder of digital technology the digital code become "words", if I work at it.
But of the many consequential factors that allow the cochlear implant technology to "work", the cognitive and empirical factors, play huge in David's "play on words"

In other words, if my memory serves me correctly from my past, the sound I "hear" as you speak, is the sound that my little brain "gets".

If I have never had the good pleasure of hearing your voice in my past hearing life, then it is stored in a file "for future use" with a your face on the file folder. If I did not meet and greet your good self in my hearing life, then no file exists on you or your voice. So you sound like most other souls I have met at the local Fourbucks in my recent deaf latte sip of life.

The differentiation is minimal. Men sound mostly the same. Women, all have a distinct dissimilarity from the male species. But the contrast, for the most part, stop at that.
The barista's all sound the same. The drive through folks all sound like aliens from Uranus. Not that I know this sound.

I want to hear Barack's voice. I use (used) voice to determine, as best could, personality.
If I liked the sound of your voice, I usually liked the cut of your jib!
I do need to know if Obama will make me as jaded and as cynical as I became during the "Bush come to shove" era.
I never liked the sound of Bush's voice. His policies and tiny but darling little intellect, seemed to match his voice. I always figured that one of the twins, not sure which one, maybe the one that drank a lot as a youngster, while the secret service snickered in silence, would do a better job of driving the country into a tank than her father. I liked her voice more I guess.

There is a chance that Mr. Obama will be the next leader of the free world, although it will be a tight race, and anything can (and will I'm sure) happen between now and November.
So I would like to have an opportunity to sit and listen to the mans voice.
Cochlear challenges currently prevent this.
I hear sound not voice.

My world, especially through a medium like television, is now is a semblance of sound. When using the medium of television, I match up the sound with closed captioning. This process then turns slush into words. This is how my world works now.

It does not give me his true voice. I know this because Obama sounds the same as John McCain. I asked Janet if they might be the same person because of the similarity in the sound I was hearing. On good authority, I have it that they are not one and the same.

For many reasons, I need to hear Obama's and McCain's voice.
When America sneezes, Canada catches a cold. So I pay close attention to who runs the infirmary south of my home.
For the past eight years I watched Bush come to shove, on his trips to Ottawa, my capital city.
I often speculated, although not too concerned, that his security seemed a little skimpy in light of his views of other countries and their policies.
To Bush, you were either with him or you all were big fat dinks. He would call you names and change the name of your culinary gift to the country to something more patriotic sounding.
Not my job to be concerned I guess. I am not a political blog guy. I just like the sound and taste of French fries. With gravy.

I hope the cochlear implant technology increases to the point one day that instead of 16 electrodes firing at my cerebral workings, they can get it closer to 180,000 That being the number of our cochlear hairs that bend, twist, shimmy, and shake, to reproduce sound.
For now I have 16.

In the meantime, I go by the eyes.
So far, I like and trust Barack's eyes .
McCain looks tired.
Bush looked confused.
He was.

Warmly,

David