Conversations

At a table next to me in Tim Hortons, a woman of my age to three companions:

Imagine - me, 6 children in 8 years and he has the sauce to tell me I was good for 8 more! I said to him, well it was more of a scream, you`d better yank the damn thing out of me or I`ll find a good protestant doctor who will!

From Leo:

Mudder would have to cut up the apples and oranges and divide them among the 8 stockings. And there was only one peppermint hobnob each. Fadder would drink all the Christmas money away.

A good friend to me:

You`ve always admired my French glass bottle of lavender soap, and guess what I found one for you!

Overheard:

Well, it`s all wonderful Jingle Bellish isn`t it, until Harold arrives. No, we never invite him. He just shows up and what can we do, surrounded by little ears waiting to pick up on all the fucks. And it wouldn`t be so bad until he shoves Tom out of the way, as if Tom wasn`t my legal husband now. I mean Harold and I were only married for 7 years of hell, right? And now he expects to sit at the head of the table beaming at his grandchildren. I tell ya, Tom is a saint.

Me:

My happiest Christmas? Prepping the food at 4 a.m. and feeding the homeless at 10.00 a.m. in Toronto with my younger daughter. And talking to them, hearing their stories, their memories. Singing together. Joking, even. Feeling so privileged at the end of it all. Humbled.

Whatever you do, whatever you wish, may it all bring peace and joy and a smidgin of hope for the new year.

Conversational Booby Traps

It seems I'm always being taken unaware by conversational booby traps. It must be a comedy to be around me. I think to myself, privately, was I sometimes so unaware as a child to learn how to extricate myself from such entrapment? I could have been, though I can tell you I didn't miss much, I was your silent listener with a book behind the sofa or lurking at the top of the stairs, soaking it all in.

To my utter shock, I was caught a few times recently.

Example 1:

An acquaintance who has never been to my house grabs some DVDs off my shelves and announces:

A. "I am borrowing these."

WWW: "Well, actually, I never lend out my movies"

A.: "Don't you trust me?"

WWW: "No, it's not a matter of trust. I base this on past experiences..."

Friend standing by: "Oh, you can trust her. I'll vouch for her."

A.: "See how ridiculous you are?"

A marches off. With my movies. I still don't know what I could have said to her.

Example 2:

I tell a friend here I am going to Toronto for a few weeks as another friend has offered me her downtown house.

F.: "Oh great, I've always wanted to hang around downtown Toronto! We'll spend some time, you can show me your old haunts. Great!!"

WWW: "Well, the house is a bit small, my granddaughter might want to stay...."

F: "Oh, I won't be in the way at all, just point me towards the subway!"

WWW: "And I'll want to entertain my friends and gabfest, etc."

F: "I'm dying to meet your friends, see what your Toronto life was like..."

Why am I always afraid to say NO out loud and vehemently?

So here I am now, still shy of a couple of movies a month later, and with a Toronto flight unbooked.

People pleaser. Yeah, I know. But how to stop? Is there some kind of lingo I missed out on?

He said, she said.....

,

I don't know about you but I need to be reminded, and often, of the quality of the most obvious of things. Like conversations. With friends or family or whathaveyou.

I had one of the best conversations last week. A friend dropped in to chat, as he sometimes does. He says it's right aisy to talk with me. While I assured him that yes, I find it right aisy to talk with him too, for hours sometimes.

And I noticed when he left, I was uplifted, happier, more positive in my outlook. This was affirmed to me when he emailed me that night and said he felt twenty years younger and the only conclusion he could imagine was the fact that he had talked to me.

Now I am no guru and contrary to my avatar, not all that wise either. My own conclusion is this:

I am convinced that the best conversations are about ideas and dreams and personal experience and history.

It goes like this:

"Great people talk about ideas. Average people talk about things. Small people talk about other people."

Now if I could be mindful of this in each and every conversation I have I would be truly wise indeed.

Conversation

At cards tonight:

Ron: Hey Phil, do you know anyone with a harness?

Phil: Yeah I do, b'y, what d'ya want it for?

Ron: Not for me, b'y, it's for John.

Phil: What he want it for?

Ron: For his shrimping pool.

Phil: Oh right, that's some pool, I seen it.

Ron: Yeah, that's why he needs a harness.

Me (bemused at this point): Why would someone need a harness to catch shrimp?

Ron: Wha?

Phil: Wha?

Me: And I don't think he'll have shrimp up in that pool it's on a hill and not connected to the sea.

Ron: Wha?

Phil: Wha?

Me (knowing the difference between my seas, rivers and fish varieties): Like it's freshwater?

Ron (sighing tolerantly): Of course, yeah, it's freshwater. He needs the harness to finish the sides of it, it's very deep.

Me: So why is he putting shrimp in it?

Ron: First I heard of that.

Me: You just said....

Ron: Wha? No, I didn't. He'll be using the pool as a shrimping pool.

Me: (light bulb flashing, translator in overdrive)Oh, a swimming pool!

Ron: Yeah, that's what I said, a shrimping pool.

Note to red-faced self: Please, please, please, stay out of any shrimp harnessing conversations.

'Strue

One of my conversations, yesterday around the bay:

Ed: Did you read about that married couple who couldn't get accommodations anywhere in town?

Me: No - but rental costs are going up everywhere.

Ed: Oh, they could afford it alright.

Me: So what was the story then?

Ed: They were gay!

Me: In this day and age that kind of discrimination exists in St. John's?

Ed: Well, I'm not prejudiced at all, they could live with me, I wouldn't have a problem!

Me: (looking at Ed in a new light, never thinking him so liberal) Really Ed?

Ed: Of course they couldn't sleep in the same room in my house, I'd put them in separate bedrooms.

Chat

I'm a great one for the chat. I love conversation. Always have. Got hooked at a young age hiding somewhere inconspicuously: behind a chair, in a corner, on the stairs, listening to my mother and her friends unthread lives and stitch them back up again.

We learn so much from the talk of others. "An caint" as we have it in Ireland. And what was that again about Irish conversation? A series of monologues?

Conversations with women are different than with men, I believe. Women like to thrash things out, go around a topic, land for a while, veer off again. Men tend to treat dilemmas as problems to be solved. Women are not looking for solutions when they talk. They are looking for the shared stories, the sympatico, the empathy.

"Take this," she said last evening, as she handed me the framed picture she had made, "The star lights up at night."

Yes, on those dark nights it will glow quietly on my bedside table and remind me of her. My dear friend who has suffered and triumphed and who will dance again.

On Rambling Around the Grocery Store - AKA Mental Asylum - Tonight:

They were short and round and frazzled, this old couple. They stood in the middle of the cereal aisle which is 50 yards long and 4 yards high full of every kind of cereal imaginable. She was wringing her hands in between pushing her glasses up tight against her eyes as she spun around in total bewilderment.

“Oh Harold,” she said, “Harold, what are we going to do? What on earth do children eat these days?”
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“If you don’t shut up at once,” said Mama to the whining three year old girl in the grocery cart, “Daddy won’t share his jumbo bottle of Pepsi and his nachos and cheese with you tonight, isn’t that right Daddy? Now show her what she’ll be missing if she doesn’t shut right up.”

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“I CAN SO tell the difference, listen to me,” yelled the man on the cell phone as he leaned over the meats in the delicatessen, “Will. You. Listen. To. Me. They come in round only. They don’t come square. I’m going to hang up on you if you don’t shut up and listen. They don’t come square. Do you want round? I said, do you want round? I’m hanging up NOW!” Click and an almighty “F***!”

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“ Good Lord, “ I said to the woman ahead of me at the checkout. “Twelve pounds of cream cheese? It looks like you’re going to be doing some baking!”

“Well, I’m not bakin’, ” she said, “Not me. But I asked them all what they wanted for Christmas and they said cream cheese.”
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