The art of conversation

Years ago when entertainment was not as it is today, people would engage in conversing about, you name it, what was happening in their community, the children, sports, politics and according to the newspapers, who died and was born.

You were given orders never to divulge family business, of course. Two subjects were avoided, religion and politics, as God forbid, that would offend our neighbors, ( as these two subjects often ended in disputes).

It was always done with great respect and your word was your honor. What you said, you did. And, people trusted that what you said was indeed true.

Sunday afternoons people gathered as they generally had the day off from work. That is, men, most women stayed at home with the children. It was not uncommon for the men to conjugate in their "smoke room," as there subject matter was very different than the ladies, conversing while enjoying a beer or alcoholic beverage. This followed Sunday dinner or brunch, or, perhaps lemonade and pie.

I can still recall my father's stogies. He would make rings of smoke for us. At times we went to a movie as a family. Most entertainment surrounded the family: games, winter sports, baseball, swimming, hiking, biking, ice and roller-skating, cook-outs, football games, and drive-in movies.

It was uncommon for a woman to be found speaking to a guy she was not introduced to, by her family. Dads needed to approve of your date. There was a set time that you needed to be home. I don't know if we will ever see those days again. Respect, respect and more respect.

Through this art of conversation, existed a network of people who worked together, and helped each other. (Support Systems). Everyone knew who you were, and who your parents were. They knew your name. Sometimes, there was only a phone here and there and it would not be uncommon for a call to come in for a neighbor, community style. Not everyone had cars either, so believe me cars were not empty driving around. Sort of a car pooling, and sharing amongst neighbors, picking up each other's children. We looked out for each other.

People have lost something very special with the demise of that art. Now people are afraid to talk to one another. And, if you do try to converse, they look at you like you did something wrong. What has happened to this country? I think that hard times are coming upon us again. I feel that people may have to resort to being "people" again. Unfortunately, many of the "arts" have gone by the wayside, like gardening, sewing and canning.

Tonight, the cutest thing happened after dinner, when little Nathan usually wants to get down and play. He sat in his chair, and proceeded to have a conversation with us. Telling us all he possibly could remember about cars, roads and the fans on the dashboard. He is not quite three, but in his own way, he understands how important it is to master the art of conversation.

I wondered when he got done, if he had witness a car accident, sounds and all. He mentioned the slippery road and rain. It was so refreshing to see him, beginning with a family prayer, and wonderful meal and letting us know how important we are to him, by taking the time to have a conversation with us.

I was so impressed, all that was missing was the sipping of the (make believe) coffee, and that little boy could be seen twenty years from now as a highly polished, and charming grown man. And my intuitions and predictions are normally pretty good.

I spoke to his mother about his story and she told me that is how they play in day care. Smash up derby. There was no accident that he saw. What an imagination! Maybe there is hope for the art of conversation after all.

Children are so innocent, they are quick to share, so loving and giving. Maybe we should be taking lessons from them. Conversation after all, is a two-way street.