I'm just saying

You talk too much
You worry me to death
You talk too much
You even worry my pet

You talk about people
That you don't know
You talk about people
Wherever you go

You talk about people
That you've never seen
You talk about people
You can make me scream

You just talk
you talk too much

        -- Joe Jones and Reginald Hall


“Why don’t you just be quiet?”

The question was posed by Ellie, one of my regular tablemates back home in Merced. Four of us shared a table at noon and night just about every day of the week. I joined the other three because my best friend, Frank, occupied a third seat at the small, round table.

The fourth spot was occupied by Mary, whom I called “Queen Mary” or the “Ice Queen” because of her habit of asking for an extra glass full of ice during each meal. I got a kick out of watching her transfer the ice from glass to glass with a teaspoon. The idea was to keep both of her other glasses, each containing iced tea, fully iced.

We have a lot of fun at our table – at least in my opinion. I enjoy inviting Mary out on the town – and being rejected by that rather puritanical lady who I think still enjoys being invited – and kidding around with my 99-year-old pal. Frank and I became real friends during the months we shared at The Hampshire, spending many hours together.

Ellie, I believe, rather enjoyed her role as “disapprover.” She tolerated my shenanigans most of the time, but on at least one occasion they exceeded her limits and she uttered the exclamation offered above.

My reaction was a combination of joy and embarrassment. Ellie didn’t really seem to be particularly angry; and she was definitely not being damaged by my motor mouth. But her complaint was justified. I often talk too much.

I was reminded of my loquaciousness at breakfast this morning. At the end of what seemed to be a pretty good exchange of ideas, my tablemate – a retired professor – issued a convincing lecture on the topic of talking too much.

A bit fixated on what he considers the too-frequent use of the pronoun “I,” the prof made a compelling argument. He rather heavy-handedly concluded that my manner probably results in fewer friendships, that I discourage intimacy by dominating conversations.

He’s right.

Though I’ve heard many amazing stories – some of which I’ve documented here – and have learned a lot about people places and things along my route, I often wonder how much more I would gain if I did less of the talking.

I recognize that I have an aversion to “dead air.” That’s the term broadcasters use for extended periods of silence – a real problem for radio, because absent some kind of sound, radio is – well, radio doesn’t really even exist without sound.

As a journalism instructor, I’ve cautioned students about talking too much during interview sessions. And I’ve promoted the use of silence to allow the interviewee a chance to collect thoughts or expand on their comments.

Becoming a better listener and encouraging others to share more is a goal I’ve pursued for nearly 20 years. But it seems to involve a pretty significant personality change – something I’ve found to be nearly impossible both in my life and in my observation of other people.

I wish more people would remind me, as the good professor did this morning, that plenty of room exists for improvement in my behavior. It’s a goal that I may never achieve – there are competing values at play – but it’s definitely worthwhile to continue the effort.

Interviewing skills have rescued me from a number of socially uncomfortable situations. I’ve discovered that when conversation dies down, it’s usually possible to simply shift into interview mode and begin asking standard “who, what, where, when, why and how” questions. Most people respond readily to questions about themselves. The result: no dead air.

At the beginning of this trip I often attempted to break the ice with strangers by telling jokes. I still tell jokes – it’s fun – but I use them far less now. And I think the conversations have become richer as a result.

I still do a lot of the talking, though. And I definitely use the word “I” a lot.

I really do.


People who know little are usually great talkers, while men who know much say little.


        -- Jean Jacques Rousseau