I've had some great conversations across a room involving facial expressions, raised eyebrows, eyeball-rolling and head-shaking
Were you eating ice-cream at the time?
Walter, I would love to have a recording of some of the conversations you had with Dys while driving through New Mexico and Colorado. I'll bet most of those were very memorable.
Squinney, that was a perfect example. No words but a lifetime about to end for the eldest while the youngest sits and looks on silently.
Mine was a wrong number. I lived in San Francisco during the mid-sixties. The phone rang, as soon as I answered, an elderly man's voice apologized saying he had dialed the wrong number. I said it wasn't a problem, then he said that he was so old that he tended to do things like that more and more often. I again mentioned that I didn't mind at all and we began a conversation about his life in San Francisco.
He had been alive during the 1906 earthquake and old enough to have a clear memory of the fires and the fear that spread throughout the city and the upheaval his family went through, trying to find a place to live.
He did most of the talking--I would answer just to keep him on the phone--I loved his voice and the living history described by someone who had actually lived through it.
Finally, he came to the end of his story. We both agreed that it had been a lovely conversation and we hung up.
We never mentioned our names, it was simply a sharing of memories of his long ago childhood.
I'll never forget him.
Mame! Some of those conversations can be the most memorable. Silent flirting and signs of mutual understanding are way underrated.
So often, less is more.
squinney wrote:Were you eating ice-cream at the time?
No, sushi with lots of wasabi!
Diane wrote:Mame! Some of those conversations can be the most memorable. Silent flirting and signs of mutual understanding are way underrated.
So often, less is more.
And completely untranslatable
Diane, I get a kick out of answering wrong numbers with "You've got the wrong number, but what's new anyway?"
When I was young I use to go to McArthur Park in Los Angeles and strike up conversations with old men sitting there. There was a special feeling about it. I felt appreciated and I enjoyed appreciating the lives of elders. One fellow used to come to my work (a parking lot) and sit with me much of the day. One day, after about a year of such visits, he sent to my apartment a case of delicious port imported from Portugal. Suddenly he stopped coming to my work. I was afraid to see if he was dead. Chicken.
I hung around McArthur Park a few times. Heard a few good discussions. Didn't get involved, just listened.
A friend of mine was one of the first women newspaper reporters for a paper in Pittsburgh. I drove her down to see her folks one weekend (she is 73 years old) pretty amazing conversation. Quite a gutsy lady! And funny! She made it a great trip...
Some of my best conversations have been with my cat and dog. They won't tell, so I can discuss anything...
