Independent of anything else, there are sounds.
Sounds make up the fabric of our days. The banging of door closing, the click of a lock, the running of water out a faucet.
More specifically, there is the distinct sound of language being spoken, shouted, whispered, conversed.
It's no different at The Unbelieva-Base ...
"Yes! Tomorrow is Whipped Potato Day!"
"I'm headed out to play volleyball ..."
"Without pants, right?"
"Is there any other way?"
"Has anyone seen that copy of Stupid, Ugly Baby Weekly?" I have an hankering to put out an update issue and I need a copy for reference ..."
"Anyone up for a visit to Mansfield next weekend?"
"That was some Elvis celebration we had. It might not be until the end of the week before we get everything cleaned up proper."*
Pretty bland conversation, I agree. But pop in to our headquarters at any random moment and the above could very well be mish-mashed with much stranger sounds and dialog. Stuff that may leave you scratching your head, among other things.
You see, crime fighting and Unbelieva-Babe hiring (and so much more) are a very vocal processes.
Clark and Jeff will regale you in the coming days.
Me? I have to skeeeeeedaddle to an opening appearance and introduction of The Van Veen Va Vooms who have graciously invited me to introduce them at their new gig in Branson, Missouri.
*This conversation happened just last night, the supposed 38th anniversary of the "demise" of The King.
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