Starved for Conversation

Did you ever notice that no matter how you pronounce the word Caribbean that there’s someone nearby who will correct you? Same deal with the designer Ralph Lauren. This has bugged me for a long time – not the pronunciation, the need some humans have to demonstrate superiority to others.

I will grossly illustrate this with a tale my friend Jerry told me recently in response to my complaint that my significant other often feels the need to have a tad more information on a topic than I.

As Jerry tells it, his friend Wayne (a college Political Science professor) was the world’s worst offender in this regard. If you said it was a nice day, Wayne would inform you that the forecast was foreboding and in fact, some clouds were just then forming on the horizon.

One day on a road trip from Milwaukee to Madison, Jerry decided he had had enough. Wayne was driving, and Jerry had his reporter’s note pad in hand. Jerry began a discussion about what a great mayor Milwaukee had. Every example he cited, Wayne refuted. So, Jerry gave it about a half hour and a few more topics, then casually mentioned that he was quite disillusioned with the mayor. Wayne immediately began a discourse on what a fine leader he was indeed.

Enter the notebook. Unbeknownst to Wayne, Jerry had recorded his previous comments word for word and then read them back to Wayne verbatim. The good professor was astonished. He questioned why someone of Jerry’s caliber would waste his time with such a jejune exercise in proving himself right. Precisely.

The story does have a somewhat happy ending. Jerry seized the opportunity to enlighten Wayne on some possible explanations for his (Wayne’s) dismal love life. Apparently there was an endless stream of coeds who were attracted to the professor, but each lasted about as long as the rinse cycle. While they liked his commanding presence in the classroom, it didn’t translate well to the living quarters. Everybody needs to be right sometimes Wayne.

I run into Waynes everywhere. Why do some people think that playing devil’s advocate is an entertaining form of conversation? Do most of us have enough Church Lady in us that we are itching to do the superior dance?

Which brings me to another conundrum. How is it that those abrasive baby boomers, James Carville and Mary Matalin are still married? All they ever do is contradict each other. Imagine trying to enjoy your Rice Krispies while watching yourselves argue on “Face the Nation.”

I’m remembering a quote I read in The Utne Reader 13 years ago: “Our culture is saturated with information and starved for conversation.” I believe this is even truer today. Remember the verb forms “neighboring” and “visiting?” They used to be valid pastimes.

What if you called up a friend and said, “Why don’t you come over Tuesday for conversation?” Can you imagine the pregnant pause on the other end of the line? It might be followed by, “Well, are we going to have lunch?”

See what’s happened to us. We’re so productivity-focused that even talking to each other has to involve multitasking.

One notable exception might be a book discussion group. No, wait, I guess it isn’t because to have read a book and be knowledgeable about its content is rather task oriented isn’t it?

Which reminds me of a story that you will find hard to believe, but is absolutely factual. I am poised to lead a novel discussion group at Barnes & Noble. Sitting in a circle with me are about 15 women. It soon becomes obvious that I am in a discussion by myself – no one is contributing. A little probing on my part reveals that NO ONE in the circle but me has actually read the book! Turns out they were hungering for in-person intellectual discourse, and simply wanted to be somewhere where people were conversing.

This was not an isolated incident. In talking with my counterparts around the state I discovered that this happens all the time. I would tell the Utne Reader that we are more than starved for conversation. We are desperate to be heard. My mother always maintained that there were only about 5 good listeners on the planet. A good listener is the rarest conversationalist of all. If you doubt this, tune in Monday to “The View,” or to the popular ESPN show “Pardon The Interruption,” and I will rest my case.


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