whistler
On Tuesdays (or thereabouts), I call jokersama when I know she'll be at work and I sing little songs to her voice mail.
This week, for reasons related to noble overcoming of tragedy in the lives of people I know, and also because I totally forgot yesterday, I called her up and sang the first verse of a hymn. Or I tried to, at least, because the second I hit the melody line's first high, somewhat sustained note, I heard the automated voice mail lady's telling me that if I'd like to review my message, I should press 2.
I waited for the option that would let me re-record the message, then started up again, this time in a slightly lower key. Same place in the song, about a dozen notes in -- though not until I'd held the note for a full half-second -- I heard the automated voice mail lady's voice again, only this time telling me that my message had been erased, and that I could start recording again after the beep.
Everything I know about how telephones work comes from the IMDb trivia section for Sneakers, but from there I have learned that pressing buttons on touch-tone telephones doesn't work like pressing keys on a keyboard; instead, the whole process operates on sound, which is how phone phreakers were able to fool the system by using toy whistles. Thus, I can only assume that what I was doing was making a pitch at the precise volume for a sufficient duration that the message system no longer thought it was hearing a human voice, but figured that I was pressing buttons on my phone, trying to get the system to respond.
Long story short, I can apparently sing telephone pitches. Unfortunately, all it seems to do is make jokersama's voice mail mad at me. Not my best stupid human trick, I have to say.
(Also, my girlfriend wrote more of her awesome Sirius/Remus fic which you should go read.)
This week, for reasons related to noble overcoming of tragedy in the lives of people I know, and also because I totally forgot yesterday, I called her up and sang the first verse of a hymn. Or I tried to, at least, because the second I hit the melody line's first high, somewhat sustained note, I heard the automated voice mail lady's telling me that if I'd like to review my message, I should press 2.
I waited for the option that would let me re-record the message, then started up again, this time in a slightly lower key. Same place in the song, about a dozen notes in -- though not until I'd held the note for a full half-second -- I heard the automated voice mail lady's voice again, only this time telling me that my message had been erased, and that I could start recording again after the beep.
Everything I know about how telephones work comes from the IMDb trivia section for Sneakers, but from there I have learned that pressing buttons on touch-tone telephones doesn't work like pressing keys on a keyboard; instead, the whole process operates on sound, which is how phone phreakers were able to fool the system by using toy whistles. Thus, I can only assume that what I was doing was making a pitch at the precise volume for a sufficient duration that the message system no longer thought it was hearing a human voice, but figured that I was pressing buttons on my phone, trying to get the system to respond.
Long story short, I can apparently sing telephone pitches. Unfortunately, all it seems to do is make jokersama's voice mail mad at me. Not my best stupid human trick, I have to say.
(Also, my girlfriend wrote more of her awesome Sirius/Remus fic which you should go read.)