BIG TALK

All right… let me shock you. I like to talk… really. I do. Oh there was a time in my life that I truly wanted to be that strong silent type guy. You know, the one that speaks only when spoken to and when they do say something the words are tightly measured like poetry. Yeah I couldn’t pull it off. I believe I was born with some odd ‘gregarious’ gene in my DNA that forces me to be rambunctious. My loudness is obviously all biological and very much out of my control.

I recently happened upon some of my old report cards from elementary school. ‘Talks too much’ seems to be a reoccurring theme in the comment section. Of course part of the problem back then was that I hit an early growth spurt so from 3rd to 7th grade I was a lot taller, bigger and louder then most of the other kids. If 5 boys were causing a ruckus I was the one that stood out and got in trouble. I am not saying I was innocent, just more obvious.

Now I might have a gift for gab but I am definitely not one of those people with a non-stop monologue about every mundane aspect of their lives. You know the people I am talking about, the ones that read out loud every billboard and road sign you pass when you are in the car with them. You can not get a word in edgewise as they drone on and on with stories like “I got up at 8:00 today not 7:30 as usual but 8:00 so I really really had to pee worse then usual but it was sunny, not too sunny, but sunny enough that I had to squint when I looked out of the window to see if the paper boy tossed the paper in the front lawn or the driveway because if it is in the lawn it might be damp and then I will have to wipe off the paper with a towel, not a bath towel, with a blue dish towel not the red ones I use when there is company because they match the color of the Kitchenaide mixer and I hate it when the paper is damp because it reminds me that I have to pee…”

I guess the key to being a good talker is to also be a good listener. So I really should have started this blog by saying I like to converse. The thing I enjoyed so much about the trip to see my family last week was all the conversations. We all chatted about stuff in our lives today but mostly we dug out all the old crazy stories from years ago. We have all heard the stories before but enviably we all end up rolling on the floor retelling tales like when Mom threw a bowling ball through the basement wall, our family trip to Washington when I disturbed the Senate (see my blog from 4/10/2007), my brother Arthur getting stitches on his head from an elderly doctor with extremely shaky hands, pea fights at the dinner table or and my famous hijacking story (see my blog entry from 4/15 & 4/21 2007).

One of the strong points of my marriage is that my wife and I communicate a lot. Granted she has lately started to say, “it’s amazing I do not hit you” when I blurt out something incredibly over the top or inappropriate (which happens pretty much daily). We occasionally get into a deep conversation but mostly we engage in a simple never-ending silly banter about whatever is on our minds. I am very lucky to have a lot of people in my life that I feel I can really talk to.

My Buddy Mike and I only get together a couple of times a year but whenever we do, it is like no time has passed since the last visit and a deep intense conversation will usually slip in amongst all the other chatter. Yeah we talk up sports, politics, religion and all those things you should not get into with acquaintances and coworkers, but our deeper conversations are the ones I really treasure. There are not many people in the world that know almost 30 years of my innermost secrets, hopes, dreams, loves and pains. We get into anything and everything without fear of judgment, which I have to say, is truly is the most rewarding type of talk.