Thursday, November 13, 2014

Can't Talk

Although everyone under 25 years of age will disagree with me here, it is my belief that real communication comes in the face to face spoken word, which includes both words and body language.  Nothing has ever confirmed my belief more than a recent bout of laryngitis.  After about four hours in my forced vow of silence, I started wondering what would happen if we only had so many words to use over a life time, and what if I’d used all mine up.  Then I started wondering what words I would never have said if I’d know this fate was to befall me.

Did everyone in my senior class need to know that Kathy Mae slept with the entire football team as a bonus for a game well played?  Kathy Mae and I did not travel in the same circle, so I really don’t know if this is true, however, don’t tell anybody, but I heard from some very reliable sources...

Did I really need to call Frances Belle Wilkinson “fat so” and “zit face” because she uninvited me to her pool party?  Wouldn’t it have been better to tell her “you’re mean?”  Two less words.

After three days of texting and e-mailing my needs, often being misunderstood because my voice inflection was not present, sound returned to me; all my words intact.  I’d like to say that I “wax eloquent” and I speak the poetry of another famous Dylan all the time, but that would be lying; I hate lying.  What is true, is that when I start to gossip or yell at someone, there is an unpleasant twist in the pit of my stomach that reminds me, “This could be your last word.”

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