Sad Sam Sells Silly Putty and Seaweed By The Seashore

I was watching Richard Pryor the other night. Someone asks if he thinks Leon Spinks is dumb. Pryor’s answer is “He may not articulate the language, but it ain’t his anyway”. That got me thinking: If it isn’t his language, whose language is it?

In the shower the other day I realized I was not-singing a song. My brain was singing but my vocal apparatus felt shy. I started to work on this and began to sing, being very aware of what my mouth and voicebox were doing. With that awareness I noticed the odd pinch my mouth does when I pronounce an ‘S’.

Speech therapy started in kindergarten.

“Ssad Ssam Ssells Ssilly Putty and Sseaweed by the Sseashore.”

“Again. Hold your teeth together.”

“Sshlad Sam Sshlells Sshilly Putty and Seaweed by the Sseashore.”

“Again.”

Speech therapists, if I have to generalize, are a fairly kind lot. Mostly women, mostly well-meaning, mostly pleasant. But you can imagine after a certain amount of time goes by that even the pleasant and the patient will throw up their hands. I graduated from speech therapy in 5th grade, not so much by right as by exhaustion.

My lisp cleared up within a year or two after therapy stopped. Maybe it was a rough junior high experience. Maybe I just found my own path.

The lisp is, I’m told, detectable but not overly noticeable. That is to say, I’m passing.

My ‘S’ sounds fall into a sound similar to a “ssh”, though far short of Sean Connery.

I’m also told, when I use the technique taught to me in speach therapy, I can make the lisp disappear. It never sounds right to me. I learned how to make my mouth do the right thing, but I never internalized the technique. I don’t know if this was Fuck You, or ADHD, or just an inability to change my every waking word.

I remember around the time therapy started, seeing Henry Kissinger on the TV and asking why that guy got to have a lisp and I didn’t.

As an adult, I still don’t have an answer. Why did I have to lose my lisp? What did it save me? I was still an outsider, still bullied, still a nerd and a faggot and whatever else.

Back in the shower, I’m trying to sing. Shushing out my ‘S’s when something flips in my brain.

I can take it back.

I can take my lisp back.

Can I take my lisp back? It’s been a long while.

Should I?

Whose language is this?

It’s mine.