blabbedy bla

I’ve forgotten how to talk.

Well, not entirely. If you ask me a specific question, or steer me into a particular topic, there is an excellent chance that I will be able to say something relevant and reasonably coherent.

Where I seem to be flagging is in the area of pulling something out of the air, for the mere joy of it, or commenting meaningfully on something I observe, or a spontaneous thought.

When girls call me, I like to listen to what they have to say, but--as Olivia pointed out this afternoon--I don’t have much to say beyond commentary on the subject broached by the other party.

I hope it’s not a use it or lose it thing. The trouble is that in the course of the past 5 years I’ve had the habit of spontaneous conversation conditioned out of me.

I say things like: “Look--I made coffee! Do you want some?” and “We need to leave in 10 minutes. Do you know where your coat is?” And generally, this generates a meaningful response.

On the other hand, a comment such as “Victor Hugo was really smart,” or “Getting sciatica on the first day of my period stinks on ice” is likely to be met with a blank and uncomprehending stare, or at best a bewildered smile...and one can pursue it, but if the receiver is broken it’s broken, and you will get nowhere except Frustration Land. So, you do (or at least I) tend to default to keeping it internal.

Which means, after 5 years, that I am quite boring. And I apologize for this, in advance, if you happen to get stuck in a phone conversation with me, or worse, maybe a car ride.

Maybe if I practice on the dog, I will retain conversational skills at at least the rate that an astronaut retains bone mass by exercising.

So, if I suddenly say with a burst of alertness “spontaneous conversation topic!” and launch into a monologue on Sigg bottles and the overly-enthusiastic nature of EMS employees, please indulge me, and share your take.