Forewarning–scattered, semi-un-related paragraphs below.

Between mermaids, pizza men, obsessive lovers and war-guilt, I think this was my favorite episode of This American Life that we have listened to so far.  I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that it focused on the importance of communication between individuals, and how we will often go to extraordinary lengths just to get the right message across–or, how sometimes our attempts embody a completely different message than intended.

Last semester I read John Storey’s An Introduction to Popular Culture, and somewhere between the Marxist theory, Frankfurt School and ideology jibberjabbish I paid attention to this section about how much recording has transformed popular culture. I couldn’t help but think of this in the context of both the first Act especially and the show in its entirety.  If it weren’t for recording and the ability of mechanical reproduction, the Mermaid story wouldn’t have ever provided college students with the mid-term laugh that it did.  Extending that further, the show discussed how the recording was taken and analyzed from various disciplines; there was the political discourse, Freudian analysis etc.  Case in point–one message provided academics and everymans alike with an opportunity for some emotional engagement.  It’s pretty cool, if you think about it…

Before I get stuck in a tangent on that (I still have two midterms to study for) I want to talk about my own experience in relation to the second act…

My older sister is currently in graduate school studying to be a speech pathologist. When she first began in the  in undergrad, my mom and I would get so annoyed when she came home and ONLY talked about communication sciences and disorders. My mom has a lisp, and my sister quickly transformed out dining room table into her first clinical facility; my mom as her first-ever client. “Mom! Annunciate! Sal-ad” not, “Ssseellled.” “Perri, Leave me alone!” Mom argued back, only to get up, glass of wine in hand and ditch the table. To contribute to the dysfunction we would all stare down Perri, who always jumped in with defense, “Psh, I am just trying to help her!”

You would think my sister got the point after a year of conflict over mother-daughter speech exchanges, but once she entered grad school her therapy sessions only became more intense. Where before she would back off after a mere correction, now an entire monologue with linguistic terminology is blabbered alongside her attempts to “help” my mom.

It’s always so funny to watch them in action. My sister loves the field and helping people communicate, and my mom, bless her, hates being corrected. Perhaps its because my mom has lived with her impairment for years, but she is so reluctant to getting help that she often denies it all completely. Thus unfolds the conflict: she is the first and toughest client my sister has encountered yet not because she is uncapable, but because she is unwilling-and she is after all, mom.

When Perri was applying to grad school two years ago, I remember asking her to give me a synopsis of speech pathology and why in the world she wants to do it.   We were sitting by the pool, and it was probably the last thing she wanted to interfere with her tanning-time.  But at that point I had just finished my freshman year of college, and couldn’t even begin to understand what it felt like to be that passionate about a subject. Her reply was something very unexpected. “Dana, all I am going to say–is that you and I really take advantage of the ability to communicate with others. Think of it like this–remember how hard it was to talk to the Romanians when you were younger? And how stupid you felt when they just looked back and made fun of whatever you were trying to articulate.” “Sure, I said, they still make fun of my annunciation.”  ”Right, now imagine experiencing that everyday, in your native language.  Imagine not being able to convey what you are really trying to say.  That’s why I’m doing this.”  As my sister always does when she says something corny, she flipped up her sunglasses and plugged in her earphones before I could even comment.  She is not one to ever talk seriously or emotionally about things on a regular basis, which makes you know that when she does say something like that,  she really means it.