When I was a little kid, one of the nastiest fights I ever heard between my parents was after a business dinner, where my ad-man dad had "abandoned" my novelist mother with Ken Venturi, a professional golfer and alleged "shallow asshole."
My mother was legendarily terrible at making small talk, a failing that she considered a virtue, like George Washington's disability when it came to telling a lie. "Talking about the weather," as Mom called it, wasn't just boring, it was a moral affront.
Over the years I've developed two objections to my mom's attitude, that help me separate myself from it, which is useful when dealing with shallow assholes.
First: Shallow assholes are people too. It's a test of your own depth and curiosity to find out what really does matter to a small talker, and get him or her talking about something that you consider "real." When I've had the energy, I've never failed at this. Ken Venturi, tell me: What was your father like?
Second: Though I, too, find small talk offensive, I often wonder why. On a long sailing trip last fall, I had many hours to examine this question—12 hours per day, spent on watch (sometimes in the pitch black Atlantic Ocean) with one of the great small talkers of all time, a retired fire chief who had apparently learned how to kill long shifts in firehouses with jokes, one-liners, short-stories-long and assorted other verbal static.
He was like a one-man radio station, the only variety in his sound-stream being a nightly glass of gin, which caused the talking (somehow) to speed up and skip even more lightly across the glistening surface of things.
The fellow listened about as well as a radio station too, but happily, he didn't quiz his listeners either, or even require much feigned acknowledgement of his words. So eventually, it actually was like having the radio on. His monologue gently faded in and out of my consciousness and became a kind of comfort.
My late mother, wherever she was, did not approve. "Shallow asshole," she kept saying, in my head.
I'm of two minds, and maybe you'd like to weigh in:
1. There is nothing wrong with small talk, however you define it, unless it is somehow displacing big talk, however you define that. People have always talked to pass the time.
2. No! Talk is not a toy. You don't use dinner plates as ping-pong paddles, and you don't trade words just to pass the time. What is wrong with being quiet?
I realize there's a whole football field of middle ground here and that my definitions are imprecise at best. Still, I think most people have either one of the above sensibilities, or the other.
And I'm thinking the Small Talkers ought to hang with the Small Talkers and the Communicators should sail with the Communicators.
What are you thinking?
Talk to me.
Cold enough here in Chicago for you, Dave? How bout them Bears! What do you think about Steven Tyler taking over as a judge on American Idol? I got a great set of tube socks at K-Mart for $2.99 last week.
Steve C.
Cold enough here in Chicago for you, Dave? How bout them Bears! What do you think about Steven Tyler taking over as a judge on American Idol? I got a great set of tube socks at K-Mart for $2.99 last week.
Steve C.
Cold enough here in Chicago for you, Dave? How bout them Bears! What do you think about Steven Tyler taking over as a judge on American Idol? I got a great set of tube socks at K-Mart for $2.99 last week.
Steve C.
Awesome, Steve! How many pairs in that set?
Oh, you boys make me laugh.
Very funny, Stever.
Murr: beautiful piece of writing.
Much prefer serious, real talk. Would take a one-on-one date with a close friend over a party any day. (Max out at 5 people. 6+ is hell on earth; would rather stay home alone than negotiate that hot mess.) But I have relationships that require small talk. So unless I’m willing to sever those relationships, it’s about balancing both kinds of talk.
I like lasagna…do you?
Yes, Kimmy. When I see slowing hazard lights on an abandoned car, I want to cry for the dying battery. Do you?
“There is nothing wrong with small talk, however you define it, unless it is somehow displacing big talk, however you define that” and “What is wrong with being quiet?”
Yes. Both are true, yin and yang.
I hadn’t thought about it much until I read this. I tend to listen more and talk less, not because I disapprove but mostly because I’m clumsy at small talk. I much prefer cruising on big talk, but to get there I’ve found that small talk is a necessary on-ramp.
If you’re stuck in an elevator, small talk is probably all there is to work with and we need some of that to stay human. Big talk works best with someone interesting and with enough time to let it breathe.
Yes, and this is one reason booze is helpful socially: It makes the small talk more tolerable and brings the big talk in more quickly. Of course, then the big talk gets bigger and bigger ….
Worst nightmare: at a conference cocktail reception, and I know no one but I’m expected (often by myself) to mingle and chat. AAUUGGHHHH!
Best alternative: years ago, at a speechwriter’s conference (yes, that one), in Washington, at a crazy little restuarant near DuPont Circle. I knew a few of the 10 at the table – but we talked speechwriting.
Glynn: I was once at a networking cocktail reception at a company where I had been invited to speak. Everybody knew each other. Nobody knew me. The person who invited me wasn’t there yet.
I could either butt my way into a conversation, or fake an injury.
I went to reach for my phone, to fake like I was getting a call so I could leave the room . . .but I had left my phone in my hotel room.
So I did the only logical thing. I “answered” my wallet, put an urgent look on my face, and stormed out of the room.
And I’m a communicator.
Steve C.
Glynn: I was once at a networking cocktail reception at a company where I had been invited to speak. Everybody knew each other. Nobody knew me. The person who invited me wasn’t there yet.
I could either butt my way into a conversation, or fake an injury.
I went to reach for my phone, to fake like I was getting a call so I could leave the room . . .but I had left my phone in my hotel room.
So I did the only logical thing. I “answered” my wallet, put an urgent look on my face, and stormed out of the room.
And I’m a communicator.
Steve C.
Glynn: I was once at a networking cocktail reception at a company where I had been invited to speak. Everybody knew each other. Nobody knew me. The person who invited me wasn’t there yet.
I could either butt my way into a conversation, or fake an injury.
I went to reach for my phone, to fake like I was getting a call so I could leave the room . . .but I had left my phone in my hotel room.
So I did the only logical thing. I “answered” my wallet, put an urgent look on my face, and stormed out of the room.
And I’m a communicator.
Steve C.
Steve – I absolutely ADORE that story, which I read the first time on your blog!! It proves that even the most gregarious kind of person can be horrifyingly awkward in unstructured social “small-talky” situations.
David: I don’t love small-talk, but I can do it if I have a clear role or responsibility in the gathering, such as if it’s a business group, or a conference where I’m a host or presenter.
But the truth is, I’m ALWAYS jonesing for the “big talk” [as those who’ve seen me and Crescenzo in the same room can attest!] and if the small-talk drags on for too long [like, more than about 10 minutes!] I tend to find some way to get away from the small-talker, lest my penchant for more meaty interactions cause me to inadvertently create a “big-talk dramatic event” that will not be good.
The problem with tube socks is the one size fits all lie. Fits sizes 6 to 12. Right! I wear size 12 shoes so they are just too small for my feet. I can only imagine how much extra room there must be for those with size six feet.
James, you are so right. I have size 10 and a half feet, and my tube socks are just a tad too big, leading to wrinkles on the bottom, which can lead to blisters if I’m not careful.
Why can’t people offer sized socks, the way they offer sized shoes?
I mean, we can put a man on the moon . . .
Steve C.
James, you are so right. I have size 10 and a half feet, and my tube socks are just a tad too big, leading to wrinkles on the bottom, which can lead to blisters if I’m not careful.
Why can’t people offer sized socks, the way they offer sized shoes?
I mean, we can put a man on the moon . . .
Steve C.
James, you are so right. I have size 10 and a half feet, and my tube socks are just a tad too big, leading to wrinkles on the bottom, which can lead to blisters if I’m not careful.
Why can’t people offer sized socks, the way they offer sized shoes?
I mean, we can put a man on the moon . . .
Steve C.
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