WIT STOP

For Some Folks, Making a Speech Provokes More Terror Than Anything Else, Hands Down

The National Speakers Association (NSA), based in Phoenix, was founded with a handful of professional speakers in 1973. Now they boast a membership exceeding 2,000. And there are more than 140 Toastmasters International Clubs in Arizona. The Daybreakers may be the earliest risers, getting up to meet at 6:30 A.M. in Yuma. Many of the Arizona clubs have typically Southwestern names, like the Roadrunners and the Saguaros of Tucson, but others have titles that promote their speaking prowess the Real Talkers of Tempe, the Electrifying Speakers of Tonopah and La Voz de Oro of Phoenix. One of the clubs in Prescott must specialize in humorous talks. They call themselves the Smile High club.Both NSA and Toastmasters International dedicate themselves to teaching or improving public speaking skills. A survey taken by somebody somewhere once listed "Speaking in Public" as the number one fear in people. Folks fear speaking in public more than anything. More than being attacked by a giant squid. More than getting a lip caught under a manhole cover. More than anything.

I've overcome that fear because I now do a lot of banquet speaking. It's a way of curing the ham in me. Sometimes I like to actually hear the laughterand the applause. Other times, I get my exercise running from irritated audiences. Either way, I actually enjoy it.

But I recall my first attempt. I learned two things the first time I spoke in public. I learned that I had hands, and that I had no idea what the heck I should do with them.

I looked at my hands as they hung down at my side and said to myself, "Why did I bother to bring these?"

They felt like an appendix or tonsils. They probably serve some useful purpose on the human body, but at that particular moment, I couldn't figure out what it might be.

I hadn't even begun to speak, yet I panicked. I knew that everyone in the auditorium was staring at my hands - including me. In fact, I think, people who weren't even supposed to be at my talk poked their heads in the door just to take a look at my hands.

Now I studied them and learned, for instance, that my hands were approximately 12 times the size of my head. They were huge. And they weighed 84 pounds each.

I forgot about my notes and my audience and concentrated only on those hands.

They grew larger, and heavier, and they seemed to get farther and farther from my shoulders. That's right. They were actually growing closer to the floor.

They were an embarrassment and I had no idea what to do with them. They no longer fit into my pockets. Then I thought: Hey, why not use them for gesturing? Great idea.

So I decided to begin my speech with a sweeping motion of my hand. It wouldn't move. It just hung there. I thought maybe I'd make the sweeping motion with my other hand (a good speaker should always be ambidextrous), but the other one wouldn't move, either.

These were my hands. They were hanging from my arms, but someone must have been operating them with a remote-control device. I certainly had no influence over them. I did notice that when I turned my shoulders slightly, they swayed. If I turned them more, they swayed harder and farther. So I did that for a while. The audience checked their programs. Was this a speaker or a puppet show?

I had to say something, so I began. I said, "Uhhhhmmmm." And I kept that up for about a minute until someone in the back yelled, "We can't hear you!" The microphone was too low to pick up my voice.

I panicked even more. How could I adjust the microphone? I couldn't use my hands. I couldn't lift them that far. They now weighed 104 pounds each. That's right, they had gained 20 pounds in that short time. So I bent at the knees and at the waist and spoke directly into the microphone.

Beginning again, I repeated, "Uhhhhmmmm," for those who hadn't heard it the first time. In my Groucho Marxlike stance, with my knuckles scraping the floor, I continued my speech.

It failed miserably. The opening "Uhhhhmmmm" was the highlight of my presentation.

Since this speech was to a group of recovering senior citizens at a convalescent home, I thought I had an appropriate finish, at least. I said to them, "Goodbye, and I hope you all get better soon."

A lady sitting in the front row said, "We hope you do, too."

That's when I looked into NSA and Toastmasters.

Humor Book: Gene Perret's newest humor book, Growing Older is So Much Fun, EVERYBODY'S Doing It, sheds light on the hilarity and humility of life's advancing years. To order ($6.95 plus shipping and handling) call toll-free (800) 543-5432. In Phoenix or from outside the United States, call (602) 712-2000.