Talking. I like it.

I like to make people talk. But so many don't talk. Maybe because they have nothing to say. That, and being shy. And I don't just mean small talk. I like 'em to talk about meaningful stuff. Things going on in their lives. And how they cope with various problems and challenges. I know people who decline to talk because they're too tired. Or they say so. So I try to get them to talk about being tired. I want to know why? Are they working too hard? Don't they get enough sleep? Or maybe they need to get a physical exam. Or could be they're depressed. Seems to me that people should be talking to each other. And listening, too. That's the nice thing about language. It was meant to be spoken. Written, too. When I have nobody to talk to, I can easily resort to writing. And make up a conversation. With myself. Or with a mythical being. Even god himself. Of course, I've been told by some that I talk too much. They wish I'd be quiet. Others complain that I ask too many questions. The kinds of questions they don't like to answer. But once upon a time, that was my job. As a writer for newspapers. To ask all sorts of questions. Embarrassing ones, too. Personally, I don't mind being queried. Because it gives me opportunty to talk and talk and talk. --Jim Broede