Small talk has become the new big talk. I’ve recently had a midnight conversation about the annoyance of small talk. We were debating if we should just stay up to 4am to see our friend off to Toronto or should we have him come back to our place and crash for an hour. We opted to stay up and then we were asking for small talk. Many drinks later and the click clack of the hotel bar closing, we were relegated to talking about small talk. The social etiquette of making conversation to strangers or new potential friends that will determine either we go right with the the person or left. The people successful at small talk parlay it into a story, a connection, an amuse bouche that can lead to an exquisite meal. However, if the other player is devoid of skills then it is a flat souffle, an uncooked hor d’oerve.
One friend scorned small talk. He is not good at it nor does he like doing it. When he was asked to freely leave, he definitely wanted to stay. After all, the small talk was a debate in itself.
So is it better to have small talk or an uncomfortable silence? Why is sitting quietly with friends or not friends not allowed? Is conversation always warranted?
Well, whatever you decide is fine by me as long as you don’t small talk it to me while I’m trying to finish my drink.
We didn’t make it to 4am. Our friend opted to go to sleep on the airport chairs for an hour. I guess even with close friends, he didn’t care for the small talk either.
Even With Many Drinks, Small Talk Kills
My week was heart filled. I am lucky to have friends that love baseball’s spring training. I am very lucky to have friends who live all over the country. I am lucky to know kids. I am lucky to have an impromptu cultural dance occur on a random day out.
As we were having a drink at the bar in the casino, my friend and I walked over to a large, open atrium and suddenly was given a beautiful dance by Native Americans. Through the large glass we saw a spectacle of hoops intertwined between loops and legs of a fit fifteen year old. Unfortunately, we could not here the music accompanied with it. However, the inside bar provided nice jazz which freakishly matched the moves of our prodigy hoop slayer. Then the chief. The chief appeared. Only if I could hear the bellowing words and foot stomps to feed the energy.
I am truly lucky to live in a time and place where I can go to a baseball game, see a Native American dance, visit a friend and buy his art and then get to two appetizers for for appetizer and entree. As Ice Cube would say, It was a Good Day.
Doctor-so do you smoke cigarettes?
Doctor-do you drive a car?
Doctor-do you take drugs?
Kid-no, I don’t do those things. I don’t wanna do those things
Kid-But… I DO wanna drive a car.
Two things and one plan was completed last week. I was lucky enough to win tickets to a local art show through http://www.rawartists.org. They had live music, a fashion show and great artwork on display. It’s an organization made and run by artists. I resolved years ago to stop buying big store fake wall art. The thought of it just ripples my frontal lobe. Any claimed turf on my walls were either acquired in another time zone or painted by the an artist I’ve met. The other thing is every Sunday night I anxiously await the newest episode of The Walking Dead. I enjoy having the bejeezus jump start my work week. I suggest to anyone to start watching this show. It’s more than zombies. It’s about survival. And every week, sometimes that’s what it becomes, however, not so apocalyptic.
The plan was making the commitment to attend a writers conference in New York. I haven’t been to New York in a very long time. For whatever reason, there are a few places aching in my heart to see, which include the Metropolitan Museum and Grand Central Terminal. With only having a few days and within a two square mile radius, I plan to absorb all the kinetic frenzy of NYC and explode. Besides, writing is part of my new madness and my madness includes writing and writing is art and art is drawn and drawing is a story and a story is acted and an act is filmed and a film is screened and a screen is shown and the show is The Walking Dead.
And what writer hasn’t experienced that? Ok maybe, sans zombies.
Here’s the link to the conference: www.asja.org
My new wall art
“The Offering” by Bam http://www.etsy.com Shopname: Bamink