All The Chatter

Quiet I was. As Mr Walsh had asked. I sat quietly in shame, and tears slowly fell down my face and splashed onto the top of my desk. Quiet. Perhaps that should have been the lesson I could have learnt for life. Being quiet. That I could have applied to my life. Things may well have been different if I had. I’m not generally quiet. In fact today I doubt anyone, who has ever met me, would say I am a ‘quiet’ person. I’m not noisy or loud. I am not obnoxious where I live (unlike the neighbours, who believe I should also like the same heavy, boring, loud, bass music they listen to). They are like the drivers of those vehicles who seem to believe that volume means quality. And, unless the vehicle is rattling with the deep, annoying percussion of their repetitious music, it’s not sounding good. I may not ‘rattle’ but some would say I have a habit of… ‘prattling’.

PRATTLE v. prat·tled, prat·tling, prat·tles

v.intr.                To talk or chatter idly or meaninglessly; babble or prate.

v.tr.                   To utter or express by chattering foolishly or babbling.

n.                      1. Idle or meaningless chatter; babble.

2. A sound suggestive of such chattering; a babbling noise.

That word probably best describes what happens with me nowadays and has done for some years. In a slightly nervous way. When confronted with people, I get edgey and start keenly speaking, talking, chatting, prattling. Although, to be honest, most of what I talk about simply covers a wide range of information, knowledge and anecdotes I have acquired over the years, from my personal library (which is fairly large and difficult to move; 126 wine box sized boxes of reference books last move), from the internet, newspapers and from conversations.  The problem for other people is, most are not really interested, hence they may think of it as meaningless chatter. I can assure you it isn’t. It’s just that those having to listen, are simply not interested in the subjects I sometimes offer for discussion. I guess to some, I am a bit like that bass sound emanating from the vehicles that cruise around all hours, booming about the neighbourhood; an unwanted sound in the background (and sometimes the foreground).

Don’t misunderstand me, many people have happily engaged in conversations and discussions with me, varied as the subjects may be, but, were they to encountered me in a social setting, given that I do not drink, and most others do, many seeing me coming would turn in another direction, rather than engage in a conversation about some interesting (to me) specialisation of subjects. Hence I have learnt while I am not comfortable in those social settings, those being spoken with definitely are not. So, for my peace of mind and others, I avoid social events. Politely refuse an invitation and everyone is a lot more relaxed and happy. Although some at work would be happier if I could minimise the conversations I start to engage in there as well.

(Continued tomorrow)