I Wanted to be a DJ

Not the hip hop MC type DJ, although I do a lot of scratching. (Damn dry, flaky scalp.) No, no, I’m talking the radio kind of DJ, spinning the platters that matter, the stax o’ wax, the hits that just . . . keep . . . COMING! Top of the charts, number one with a bullet, golden oldies, the tunes that make you swoon. Yeah, that kind of shit.

Then I heard myself on tape. In college. At the college radio station. Hated my voice. Whiny, a bit higher pitched than I liked, a little monotone when I wasn’t paying attention to what I was reading or when I was bored. Flat. Like Michael Jackson’s EKG. (What, too soon?) So, not liking my voice, I focused more on production. And later, television production. But that’s another story.

Even though I don’t like my voice, others do. (Not everyone, mind you.) I’ve been occasionally complimented on my voice, how I sound on the phone, etc. I’ve been told, “You should be in radio.” Nope sorry, been there, done that. And yet . . . I’m still drawn to occasionally perform. Theater in high school and college, a random voice in a video I’d produced, up to a volunteer gig at a local radio station, reading newspapers for the visually impaired. (In the early 90s, some one tried to hire me to record a series of biblical lessons on tape. I passed.)

There’s a bit of the ham in me. Enough of one that I’ve thought about recording audiobooks on volunteer websites, like Librivox. (And I’m thinking about releasing an audiobook version of “The Angel of Lies” through Podiobooks, but I’m still not sure.) So, naturally, when Neil Gaiman announced that he was holding a contest for the 10th anniversary of American Gods, I up and entered. Entrants are required to record a specified paragraph and upload the mp3 to Bookperk, which is sponsoring the contest.

Yes, I’m here to pimp my entry. Go here, search for “bdiamond,” and vote for me, if you’re so inclined. (You’re required to register before you can vote.) Or enter the contest yourself! The winner will be flown to New York to participate in the recording session for American Gods.

Have fun!

Today’s Prevarication: I have the smooth, dulcet baritone of Richard Burton.


About Bruce Diamond

Despicably proud old man. Text-extruding asshole (thank you, John Scalzi) with a skewed vision on life, pop culture, writing and general assholiness. Not a scholar, not a gentleman, not Martin or Lewis. But still trying to make life fun and funny.
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