ANECDOTES AND SMALL TALK

I do sometimes think that I live my life as was once said about the late, great Peter Cook, “at a slight angle to the universe”. In his case, of course, it meant that his observations and wit meant that he took our world, looked at it with a new understanding and made it seem even funnier than it already did, whereas my own skewed view of the world is more to do with not really understanding it at all and failing to keep up.

I was thinking about such things the other day in relation to these things I write. Writers of newspaper and magazine columns are usually able to put a witty spin on the events in their life and turn them into literary entertainment. I specifically recall the piece Douglas Adams once wrote about the packet of biscuits at the railway station, which was a moment of pure comedy extrapolated from a small event in his life, which I think lurks in “The Salmon of Doubt” which is well worth tracking down if you get the chance.

I then began to realise that nothing that funny ever happens to me. Lots of things happen which make me angry, or confused, or embarrassed, but they seldom get twisted around into humour. These burblings, which I continue to push reluctantly into the wide and uncaring world, are seldom about the absurdities of life looked at in a absurdly funny way, although I’ll admit to the odd dalliance with “funny peculiar” and the occasional attempt at something approaching “wit”.

Instead I churn out my confusion with the same deadly earnestness that used lead to people shuffling away from me at parties and going off to snog the bloke with the tattoos and the guitar. Ah yes, my friends, there’s another of life’s lessons learned at an early age. We all might say we admire a bit of intellectual conversation, but if the pseudo-intellectual who corners you is really deathly dull, so is the outcome of the evening likely to be. Guitars, however, are always cool…

“I should have learned to play the guitar… I should have learned to play them drums…”

But it’s not just the writers (or the guitarists) who are expert word wranglers. You only have to stand in a pub, park yourself on a bus or train, or sit in an office with inadequate sound-proofing where the room next door is being renovated to hear comedy gold being uttered all of the time. Everybody, it seems has something amusing happening to them all the time, either that or, with the slightest of twists, they can make the most mundane moments in their lives seem funny for the amusement of their audience.

“And then, do you know what he said…? He said…”

“…and, do you know, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing…”

All far better than being the dull person who nobody wants to listen to, droning on about their less than fascinating fascinations.

I was sitting on a bench on a headland a few months ago and there was a large family group centred on another of the benches further along and they were all screaming with merriment at the most banal rubbish that you would switch off if it turned up on your TV set, and when they weren’t howling with laughter at the thought of the young lad with them having to wear soggy shorts, or the other moments and incidents of their day at the beach, they were having very earnest conversations about the latest mobile phones or job opportunities in the HGV driving and warehouse management game that had the air of the wise old elders of the tribe passing on their knowledge to the young bucks about to head up the next hunting party.

All very earnest, and possibly a bit dull to anyone listening in, but then I suppose I shouldn’t really have been listening in, although it was almost impossible not to because, no matter how intimate, personal and confidential their topics of conversation might have been, they were also being very loud.

At the time I muttered to myself some nonsense about “empty vessels” but I’ve since come to realise that this is precisely what the majority of everyday family life is for the vast majority of people. Small little moments of dullness that are turned into entertainment, even though they might need occasionally enlivening a little by embellishment or by making reference to shared popular culture.

That said, there is still a modern tendency to have all of our most personal moments broadcast to whoever might be within earshot, possibly due to the shift from having to go into the “other room” or “down to the phone box” to make our personal calls. Nowadays you can know the details of someone’s most intimate private life simply by sitting too close to them on the bus as they make or receive that call on their mobile, and all of our boundaries seem to be shifting and crumbling. Unless, of course you happen to get caught inadvertently “earwigging”, and then it’s your fault.

I have claimed for many years that “I don’t know how to do small talk” because all those little things that I know that you’re supposed to say when other people make a happy or sad announcement seem to elude me, or my “congratulations” sound so insincere even to my own ears so they’re hardly likely to convince anybody else…

Are they?

Sometimes, I thought, it’s better to say nothing at all, when it turns out that saying something, anything, no matter how predictable it might seem, is the better option. I’m also so far out of the loop when it comes to popular popular culture, that nine times out of ten I don’t really know who it is that they are talking about anyway, so it’s probably best to keep my opinions on such things to myself. Luckily, in those circumstances, I usually don’t actually have an opinion one way or another anyway, so that’s pretty easily achieved.

Not that I’m generally short of something else to say, but about that, there’ll be more (I’m sure) tomorrow…