![]() |
| |||||||||||

I was watching Tom Snyder's "Late Late Show" last Wednesday. (I'm a classic night-owl; I do most of my best work late at night.) Tom's first guest was actress Jacqueline Bissett. I really enjoy Mr. Snyder when he has on someone like Robert Blake, Bonnie Hunt, David Milch, Stan Freberg, or Dennis Prager. Now, Ms. Bissett is a nice, refined lady, and she looked terrific in "The Deep"; but that was 20 years ago, and I just wasn't interested in anything she might have to say. Nonetheless, I listened with one ear while I graded some of the Official Baby Boomer Qualifying exams. And when the interview was over, I thought to myself, "That was extremely pleasant; I enjoyed that."
Why? What did I find it so enjoyable? It was not because of anything they discussed. The interview did not include any salacious Hollywood gossip or a clip from an upcoming movie. (I could do without those anyway.) After thinking for a minute or two, I could sum it up in one word: conversation. They had a conversation.
Listen to an interview on Letterman, Leno, Wayans, or any of the other interview/entertainment shows, and you'll find that they don't actually have conversations. They have four-minute entertainment segments: a couple laughs; some prepared, benign banter; a film clip or other plug; and they're out of there. Next. It's cheap entertainment; but it is not conversation.
And that is what we're missing these days: real, live, stimulating conversation. I remember when I was growing up, we had a family conversation every week. We usually held it on Sunday afternoon or evening. We sat down in the living room and conversed for the better part of an hour. No guests, no television, no radio, no interruptions... just the four of us. Everyone had to participate, sometimes with a prepared topic, sometimes just a response to someone else; often there was no prepared topic at all. We just conversed. It was not complicated; it didn't cost a thing; we didn't need a grant from the government or a social worker to oversee us. Anybody could have done it; anybody could do it today. But those conversations are one of the things I remember most and most fondly about my childhood. It was part of our "family values." We even did it three days after my father died. It was a part of our life.
Notice I used the word "converse" as opposed to "talk." That's a marginal difference, but a distinction I wish to emphasize. Webster defines "converse" as "to engage in conversation; to talk informally." The key word here is "engage." We related to each other, looked into each others' eyes and had an exchange of ideas, thoughts, and feelings. We learned about each other, and made our feelings and thoughts known. We developed empathy and compassion. We learned to effectively communicate our ideas. It was good preparation for life; it was good for the family.
This is the stuff that a family or a community was made of. There was a lot of conversation back then. Johnny Carson was a terrific comedian; but he could also engage in great conversations. The day that President Kennedy was assassinated, Johnny Carson had to put on a show. The network decided not to broadcast a re-run. And they had advertising and other obligations; so they couldn't just go off the air. But Carson was not about come out on stage and do an Aunt Blabbie routine six hours after the president had been gunned down. So he gathered a few friends and others who had known the president, and they had a 90-minute conversation in front of the audience and television cameras. It was not maudlin or overly dramatic. It was simply a heart-warming conversation; and it was television at its best. Carson could do that with many guests. Bob Hope was a terrific entertainer, but he was always "on." It was hard to have a conversation on camera with him. But Carson could do it with Jimmy Stewart, James Garner, and dozens of others.
But you'll never see Letterman, Leno, or the others actually engage in a conversation. They are fine entertainers, but they have no skills at conducting a real conversation on stage. Good conversation does not come naturally; it is an acquired art. It took me a while to realize it, but that is what is missing in the late night shows... and, not surprisingly, in life. Back in the sixties, we had lots of conversationalists. Remember David Suskind? Jack Paar? Steve Allen can carry on a terrific conversation when he is not trying to be funny; he is brilliant. But they are all off the scope now. Barbara Walter's pre-academy awards interviews just don't cut it, either. Tom Snyder is the last of the great television conversationalists. When he leaves, the lights go out.
Has conversation moved to radio? Not as far as I can tell. Rush Limbaugh says he has "conversations." Whether you like him or despise him, he does NOT have conversations. Please! Tom Lycus? Larry King? Hardly. Believe it or not, Don Imus can carry on a great conversation with a guest on his morning syndicated radio show. His interviews with Anna Quindlen, Mike Barnicle, and Jeff Greenfield are some of the best you'll hear anywhere. He can be terrific. But that's mighty slim pickings for a nation of 265 million people.
And don't tell me you have conversations in those AOL and Internet chat rooms. Please don't show your ignorance.
But it is sad that today we have fax machines, pagers, cordless phones, cell phones, answering machines, computers, e-mail, and yes, the Internet; but we seem to be losing the art of stimulating conversation. Maybe it is precisely because of those artificial devices that conversation is missing. It is not an inconsequential loss. A re-emergence of engaging conversations could do a lot to improve our "quality of life."
When was the last time you had a genuine conversation... with anyone?
![]() | ||
|
|
| |
Copyright © 1998 Baby Boomer HeadQuarters (BBHQ) All rights reserved.
rev. 11/29/98