There are plenty of situations in every day life that call for prolonged silence. Although there’s some appeal in talking to someone that can’t talk back, like those on a movie screen, there’s very little purpose to it. Barring some paranormal experience, they are incapable or responding to your barbs and script revisions. Theater actors on the other hand must grapple with your plot questions and casual asides. As any parent will tell you, ignoring someone is still a response.
Comedians feed off the audience, but like typical despots, they desire a one way street of adulation. And at times, they literally feed off the audience, when certain members trade heckles for fresh fruit. Budding broadcasters are taught to avoid dead air at all costs. To some, stammering is better than silence. You have to fill the void lest the people behind the glass lose their minds. Dead air gives listeners a reason to switch stations or the batteries in their transistor radio.
But dead air is a fiction. There’s always something to hear. Be it static
interference, wayward insects buzzing through the studio, or
the drunken ululations of over-served fans.
It’s fun to trample over someone during a big play in the end zone or
the outfield stands. It feels lazy to let the crowd take over at
important juncture in the game. But they are what makes the
game alive. An awkward pause becomes a pregnant
pause after about nine seconds.
It’s a funny thing. The best broadcaster of the last fifty years always knew when not to talk. The same can’t be said for most of his peers.
Dead air is the most alive air there is.
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