Small talk vs. big ideas
I’m a talkative guy. I can chat with anyone, but I’m not a fan of small talk. Nothing is duller than a sentence that starts with “It’s cold out there today.” Discussing the weather patterns in Southwestern Pennsylvania can be divisive.
Last week, the temperature dropped more than 40 degrees in 24 hours. We’re bounced around like a toddler on the Thunderbolt. Up, down, and back again.
Around here, Mother Nature has more mood swings than a menopausal Medea. She loves you. Then, she tries to kill you. It’s a vicious cycle.
I’ve heard people say, “If you don’t like the weather here, move.”
That’s simplistic. I love everything else about living here but the weather. Since I can’t move everyone I know to a state with more sunshine, I have decided to change the things I cannot accept and whine about the things I cannot change. Acceptance is a little farther away.
Until I steal Mikkos Cassadine’s weather machine (deep cut “General Hospital” reference), I’m stuck with the weather as it is. It’s a futile conversation, even when I’m enjoying the weather.
Side note: Years ago, I was standing outside, basking in the rays of the sun in the last few moments of my lunch hour in downtown Pittsburgh, when Vince, the vice president of finance, strolled by me on his way into the office. I smiled and said, “It’s lovely out.”
He shot back, “Supposed to rain later!”
Cue the Debbie Downer trombone noise. Wah, wah.
In retrospect, it’s good that the finance guy was a pessimist. You don’t want an optimist in charge of the money.
But I digress, like I do. I don’t want to chit-chat about the weather, and I can’t talk sports. Once, on the elevator with Vince, the aforementioned finance guy, he turned to me and said, “Are you excited for the game?”
I said, “I’m not sure how you know I have plans to play Scrabble with my Aunt Margo this weekend, but I am excited. She’ll win, though. She usually does.”
I don’t really follow sports. Any Steelers, Pirates, or Penguins paraphernalia I own, I bought for a series of comedy sketches or musical numbers for “Off the Record.”
Even though you can find my name in the newspaper, I’m not the most informed person. I just filled up my tank and was like, “Why is the gas so high?”
My friend said to me, “Do you read the front page, or do you just skip to the comics?”
I said, “During Lent, I used the Community Fish Fry Map. Does that count?”
I like to talk about big ideas instead of small talk. Instead of discussing weather, sports, and/or local news, I would love to have some headier, heavier conversations.
Give me your elevator pitch on an actual elevator.
Please tell me your thoughts on fate vs. free will, nature vs. nurture, or Søren Kierkegaard’s existentialism, but be quick about it. You have until I get to the fifth floor.