It's work, don't kid yourself

It always amazes me how people expect others to be entertaining. Forgive me if I have blogged about this before, but mastering the intricacies and rules of "conversation" is not art; it is very hard work. This always hits me when I walk into a cocktail or dinner party and am forced to mix and mingle with people who shirk this work. There they stand, mute, waiting for someone else to do all the blabbing. That person usually ends of being me because that is the way we were brought up. And usually I am at a gathering of people I don't really know that well, making the whole ordeal even harder.

Although considerably more lax, the rules of conversation in our society remain firmly fixed. Nothing too intimate, nothing politically incorrect, nothing blasphemous......nothing that would shock the listener. These rules make conversing a serious challenge for someone like me, but it was even more difficult when I was young because the list of taboo subjects was downright daunting: no religion, no money, no politics and no sex. Yep, you could not talk about any of those subjects. While these regulations limited your chances of descending into the social abyss, they forced you to work really, really hard to keep a conversation going. But in those days, you weren't the only one doing the work; everyone at the gathering knew the rules and we all joined in with wholehearted enthusiasm to make the event as endurable as possible. Not any more.

One of the first things I remember about my mother was walking into a gathering of old biddies at an old-age home when I was about four. I was holding her hand and as we entered, she squeezed it pretty hard and said, "speak to a person dear". For some reason, I knew exactly what she meant. It meant I had to say hello, how are you, tell them my name, where I went to kindergarten, how old my little brother was, did I have a pet...........and all with a big smile on my face. Never mind the terror and downright horror these old ladies held for me -- with their rolls of flesh, their smells, their knarled fingers, their drooling and their hairy chins. No, it was very clear that I had to push through all that and "entertain" them. Still a toddler, I had to earn my keep and it never let up.

Here's a rule of thumb: when you walk into a party, before you gulp a drink or a swallow a canape, you have to talk to at least five people. Of course, I don't follow this myself, but we all should. That's how you earn your keep at a gathering. You are not there because you are entitled to be there. You are not there because you are riveting, talented and fabulous. No, you are there to hold your own and engage others. As children, we were not permitted to be "shy". Shy was rude, period. I was always amazed when I met another child who was described as "shy". Hey, I'd like to be allowed to be shy too, but I still have to do all this stuff!

Looking back, I am very grateful to my mother because she gave me the skills I needed to be a journalist in the business world. Knowing how to "speak to a person" gave me the wherewithall as a 22-year-old to stride confidently into a convention of 500 carpet retailers (or some other such group) and walk up to complete strangers and interview them. Mastering the art of conversation morphed into a pretty cool job. To this day if you want to be thought a "great gal", just interview someone at a social gathering. Nothing beats talking about oneself. One of my daughters told me she had met a woman I had had dinner with and the woman had said, "Oh, Nancy was great, we had a fabulous time." Thing was, it was a business dinner and I interviewed the woman the whole time. Not once did she ask a thing about me, it was all about her, so she thought the encounter thoroughly wonderful. I did not enter into it.

Having had to travel extensively during my series of jobs, I was obliged to interact with many colleagues with whom I would never have done so, had it been left up to me. Anyone with me? You have to go across the country with a guy or woman with whom you have zero in common. And that means breakfast, lunch and dinner a deux. Ugh. Last time I did this it was with a woman 30 years my junior and during yet another boring dinner I finally said, "You know, you make me work waaaaaaaaaay too hard!" She looked up from her pizza and uttered, "Whaaaat?" I then proceeded to inform her that a conversation involved at least two people. Here's how it works: I say something and then you think about what I said and you say something that relates to what I have just said. Then I go back to you with another thing that relates to what you have said, but strays into new territory and then you pick up on the new subject and mention something about what you have been through on that file. Then I pick up on what you have said and I add something extra. And on it goes. You don't just sit there and grunt whenever I try to converse. I told her this was the very last meal I would be eating with her unless she actually made an effort. Too much work. Next meal she actually made the effort and thanked me for calling her on it.

I remember fondly two people I loved travelling with: Angele Menard, a remarkable woman I met when we both worked for EXPO 86, and Phil, a fabulous guy I met at Revenue Canada. Travelling with Angele was a real education because no one quite cut it like she did. She had --and still has -- more pizzaz than any woman I know. We used to do things like wear mink coats in Vancouver just to annoy the animal rights activists. She taught me how to exude confidence, even before we had sealed the deal with the provinces -- even if we had no idea what we were doing! Still a friend after 25 years, I bow to her on just about every level. Phil was a true gentleman and made me laugh. Another guy who knew how to "speak to a person". So, there you have my two cents on what a conversation is all about.