WHY DO WE TALK SO MUCH?
If someone would teach the younger generation how to talk,
And their elders to listen, the generation gap would not exist.
Lynn Ruth
People my age talk a lot. We do it because words are what we are comfortable using to express ourselves. When we hear it, we can figure it out. You people communicate differently and I think that is great. I saw a young couple standing together outside a movie theater sending messages to each other on their I-Pads. They nodded wisely as if they were exchanging very special secrets. I can’t do that. I have to use my vocal cords to communicate. Besides I don’t want to send anyone pictures of what I just did an hour ago. I was on the can.
I was in the grocery store and the clerk smiled as he was taught to do and said without looking at me, “How are you today?” and I actually told him.
I discussed how hard it was to get out of bed in the morning because of my sciatica, why my shoes didn’t fit because of the heat, the new place I found to shop for vitamins, and my problem with the neighbor’s dog. When I finished, I looked at him expectantly and he said. “83.43. Cash or charge?”
When I was your age, I was really careful about everything I said. I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings and I wanted them to love me. Now, I am of a certain age and the brakes are off. Censorship went the way of continence.
Being blunt can really mess you up if you are looking for a date. Not long ago, I enrolled in a new dating service in the states called Table for 6. The idea is that if you get six people together around one table sharing ideas and talking to one another you will find the love of your life. I went to one of their events and sat there with five strangers from my generation. The talk never stopped because that is what we love to do. One guy discussed his new dentures, the other his hiking trip in the Arctic. A woman who looked 106 told about her face lift and another talked about her kid with Turrets. “He shouts obscenities EVERYWHERE,” she said. “Just yesterday I was buying a screwdriver and some fertilizer when Percy shouted I WANT TO SEE THE MONEY SHOT!’
“I was humiliated.”
When the evening was over, we all knew all about each other and we knew we never wanted to see any of these boring people again.
I looked over at the next table. It was filled with 6 people in their thirties. Everyone there was absolutely silent except for the clink of their wine glasses and the sound of their forks picking up their stroganoff. Each had his I Pad in his hand and now and then one would tap his neighbor on the shoulder and point to a picture or hold it to her ear to listen to a song. At the end of their meal, while everyone at my table went his separate way, the 6 of them paired off holding hands and staring lovingly into each others eyes.
My generation likes to hear the words you say, even though we don’t really hear that well. Our eyes are shot and we forget how to end the sentence we just began. I went to the funeral of my friend’s husband and she was standing by the coffin talking a mile a minute to the corpse. “I TOLD you not to take that aspirin,” she said. “But you never listen…and now look at you! Dressed in a suit you never wore on your way to God knows where with a mortgage that is sky high and a house underwater…”
“Millie,” I whispered “He can’t hear you anymore….”
“He couldn’t hear me when he was alive, either,” she said. “But now he can’t walk away.”
The truth is talk was our style of communication even though I have to admit we really don’t say much that is memorable. I think we want you to know we are still alive and we want to convince ourselves that we matter to you because believe me, you matter to us. You are the ones who will care for us when we fall apart. The thing is, when you can’t hear, your sight is blurred and your arthritis is killing you, it feels good to talk about it. The more you chatter the less you notice the pain.
I have tried your way of communicating and sometimes it works really well. When I have a headache I would rather text my buddy to complain, but on the other hand, there is no way any computer message can ever make me feel as good as someone’s hand on my forehead saying. “Let me put some ice on your head and make it better.”
Everyone has their own way of getting their point across and all of us need to feel we are heard. I don’t mind reading what you say to my computer, but sometimes, when you aren’t running from one business meeting to a mixer or a concert, I would really love it if you’d answer the telephone.
