I’m trying to get better at reading my stories aloud. And by trying, I mean, I’m actually doing it. Practice + Google Maps is how you get to Carnegie Hall, right? Kidding. I’m not trying to get to Carnegie Hall, and if I were trying to get there, I’d probably just take the subway.
But I am working to build up my audio muscles because I like the added dimension audio brings to my stories. Also, as the son of the world’s best sound man, I know my dad would get a kick out of hearing me step up to the mic to tell Situation Normal stories.
For the moment, I’m trying to keep this as simple as possible. I’m recording older stories from the first year of Situation Normal and embedding the audio file in the post. Situation Normal was a lot smaller in its first year, so chances are this story is new to 99.2% of the situation normie community. But just in case audio isn’t your thing, I’m republishing the original text here too. In other words, you can have it your way, just like when you go to Burger King.
OK, enough rambling. Here’s the audio version of “Incorrigible.” All you have to do is press Play.
“Incorrigible” — original text
“She’s not going to change,” I say. “She’s incorrigible.”
“What does incorrigible mean?” Christina asks.
A mild panic overtakes me. I was just trying to spice up our dinner conversation with one of those five-dollar words, but Christina has called my bluff. I do not know what incorrigible means, and so I do what comes naturally. I bullshit.
“It’s an old-timey word,” I say. “It was in popular use in England at the dawn of the Industrial Revolution.”
I stumble through a brief history of industrialization. The gist is this: people used to work on farms, then factories became a thing, which disrupted the social fabric of the agrarian economy, which resulted in some people, who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, for whatever reason—brutal labor conditions, mental illness, poverty wages, etc.—get with the program. Those people were labeled incorrigible.
“Cool. What does incorrigible mean?”
Damn it. College bullshit didn’t do the trick. Time to break out the law school bullshit.
“I saw incorrigible a lot reading old English common law cases,” I say. “Back in the day, the legal system was crude AF in terms of how it classified criminals, and there were these people…”
“Incorrigibles?”
“Yes, exactly! Incorrigibles!”
“But what were they exactly?”
“They were people who were very difficult to deal with.”
“How so?” Christina asks. “Difficult in what way?”
“Well, it was a different time…”
“Honey,” Christina says, “you have no idea what incorrigible means, do you?”
“No, not really. But I’m still comfortable using it in a sentence.”
“Go for it,” Christina says.
I clear my throat, take a sip of water, and let it rip.
“Alexa, what does incorrigible mean?”
“As an adjective,” Alexa says, “incorrigible is defined as not corrigible.”
“Looks like I’m not the only one bluffing here,” I say.
“Alexa,” Christina says, “what does corrigible mean?”
“Kerbel is a surname,” Alexa says.
Christina turns her head to face Alexa. In a loud, clear voice she asks, “Alexa, what does corrigible mean?”
“Courage is a noun,” Alexa says.
“No!”
“Courage,” Alexa continues, “is defined as the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear; bravery.”
“Alexa, what does corrigible mean?” Christina asks again.
Once again, Alexa repeats the definition of courage.
“Alexa, please define the word corrigible,” Christina says.
Alexa repeats the definition of courage for a third time.
“I give up,” Christina says.
“You have to admit. It took a lot of courage for her to say that shit three times.”
But Christina isn’t laughing. She’s on a mission to discover what incorrigible means. So, she handles her business the old-fashioned way. She Googles it. On her iPhone.
“It means not able to be corrected, improved, or reformed,” Christina says.
“Exactly! Alexa is incorrigible!”
Or, if you use Substack Notes, please hit the Restack button (it won’t hit back, promise).
I learned a lot from my first recording session, but this particular story had it’s own special lesson👇
Shout out time
A big text-based shout out to Leigh, the newest paid subscriber at Situation Normal! Thank you so much for supporting my work, Leigh!
My writing super power is turning Lyft rides, awkward yoga classes, tech questions from our racist neighbor, conversations about hot sauce, working as a PA at Richard Nixon’s funeral, McDonald’s breakfast, and cheese boards into the stories you love. Paid subscriptions help me carve out time from my freelance writing schedule to amuse you. As a thank you, paid subscribers receive a shout out, occasional exclusive stories, and full access to the archives. Please consider supporting Situation Normal🙏
Stick around and chat!
You know the drill. I’ve got questions, you’ve got answers.
Do you have a favorite old-timey word? Share it!
At the beginning of this story, I was trying to tell Christina that someone was “incorrigible.” What led up to that comment? Wrong answers encouraged!
Are your devices (Alexa, Siri, Echo, etc.) a source of humor, frustration, or are they genuinely helpful? Explain.
Isn’t it ironic that Alexa interrupted my recording of a Situation Normal story where Alexa is the guest star? Tell me about irony, Alanis!
In the audio business, feedback is bad. But in the writing business, feedback is good. What did you think of the audio version? Be honest.
Want more Michael Estrin stories? I’ve got two books!
Ride/Share: Micro Stories of Soul, Wit and Wisdom from the Backseat is a collection of my Lyft driver stories🚗🗣
Not Safe for Work is a slacker noir novel based on my experiences covering the adult entertainment industry💋🍑🍆🕵️♂️
The ebook versions of my books are priced between 99 cents and $2.99, so if you don’t have the budget for a Situation Normal subscription, buying an ebook is a great way to support my work. Bonus: awesome stories and laughs!
*If you bought one of my books, thank you! Please take a moment to leave a review. It helps a lot💪🙏
A big part of the problem with Alexa is the pronunciation you are using for ‘incorrigible’. The ‘ cor’ should be pronounced like the ‘cor’ in corn NOT like the ‘cour’ of courage.
Before Amazon Prime destroyed the usefulness of Prime music I used to enjoy our version of an Abbott and Costello routine:
Me: Alexa, play Hard to Hold.
Alexa: Now playing Love Somebody, by Rick Springfield.
I'd do this over and over.