February 2009 - that's the last time I posted an entry to my blog. At the time I had nothing more to write about, or so I thought. There's only so much mileage you can get writing about politics or the crappy drivers at my daughter's school. Add to that other distractions, in particular focusing more on digital photography and trying to become better at that hobby, and, well, the blog took a back seat. So eighteen months ago I decided to close up shop.
It wasn't until recently that I started thinking about restarting the blog, realizing that my problem wasn't a lack of topics, but I stopped making my observations about the human condition. What really changed my mind was a recent stop one evening with the family at a local Baskin Robbins. In addition to us were two other couples, a husband and wife who live locally and two friends, we were to discover later, visiting from North Carolina. The conversation at their table was dominated by the gentleman who lives locally. His voice boomed off every surface possible, so it was hard to ignore him. As we sat eating out ice cream, my wife and I would exchange occasional looks, telling each other via facial expression that we wished he would be quiet. But at the same time we were both fascinated by his conversational skills.
He truly belongs to a rapidly disappearing generation. The art of conversation is one that is falling by the wayside given the rise and popularity of social media sites. For example, I've reconnected with many old friends from childhood when I lived in New York. Exchanged a number of messages with them. But I could be a bilateral amputee and still have enough fingers to count the number of times I've actually talked to them. And that is what fascinated me about Baskin Robbins Man. In an era of electronic interpersonal connections, he's a complete anachronism. He belongs to a time now passed when men gathered at a local store to talk about news or the weather or how the crop harvest for the current growing season was looking. And that realization was not lost on me.
Conversely, you also have people who engage in conversation, but are not very good at it. I must include myself in this category, not because I don't want to talk, it's just that I enjoy my privacy which makes it hard to engage other people. Recently the family and me enjoyed an evening out for dinner at a local "family-oriented sports restaurant." Bellied up to the bar were two gentlemen enjoying a few beers and some food. They struck me as two businessmen-wanna be types who fancied themselves ladies men as they talked to the largely female waitstaff, sitting at the bar after a long day of racking up sales and responding to Equal Opportunity Office sexual harassment complaints. I really wasn't paying attention to them until one of them decided to make a hard to ignore comment to one of the waitresses. "Do you mind if I ask you something, which I don't want you to find insulting...but 92% of people with cold sores have herpes." Really, dude? Is that the direction you want the conversation to take? First, I take issue with you asking about asking a question, and just making a comment instead. Second, when I'm in a restaurant I really don't want to hear you or anyone else talking about herpes, and certainly don't want to hear the people handling my food discussing it as well. So perhaps I'll be adding this place to my "No Fly" restaurant list along with the downtown Five Guys and that creepy toothless woman who works the register. But that's another story for another time.
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