Slow night at the Bistro.
No Customers; everybody must be getting ready for the Rhythm & Roots Festival in Bristol. We’re leaving Peirce to close up, and Wode Toad is taking me to a firing range.
Peirce has Sinatra playing as we leave.
No customers, and I’ve run out of things to say, or I have just tired of talking to myself.
Writing is like engraving love letters on feathers, casting them into the wind and wondering if someone will read them.
Send me questions; at some time I’ll come back around.
Write, write, write! And pictures of a Tennessee fall posted for your autumn deprived readers would be pleasant.
I just recently happened upon your Bistro….
Over the course of a few days I devoured each entry and verbally responded continuously…I felt I was in conversation. It has been refreshing, as I had not participated in any “thought provoking” conversation in many years. I want to thank you for re-exposing me to “inquiry” …making me think… helping me relearn the art of observation. I feel more alive somehow, and pray that I will remember this feeling and hold on to it. I hope that I will continue along this path and not fall back into my previous trivial rut of generic pleasantries (“how was your day?”, “how is the weather?”, “how are the kids?” etc…) that I called “conversation”.
I perceived a sadness in your codetta that was disheartening. I want you to know that just because readers aren’t writing does not necessarily mean they aren’t responding…. You are still initiating correspondence, intellect, conversation…just think of the response on a more cosmic level, in a less tangible format.
You say you enjoy writing, you claim you talk to yourself and it seems you find wonder daily in the least expecting places. Your bistro seems the ideal place for you to exercise those traits and to sort/ document your observations. I want to thank you for your time; I hope you will continue frequenting this establishment.
Thank you for this kind response.
It had been a rough week, and I was feeling particularly isolated when I composed it the Friday before I published it. I still feel that it is difficult to carry on a onesided conversation–I am gregarious by nature, and even when I was an actor was happiest when there was give and take.
I almost had the next column to replace it instead, but had some mishaps (including a small sugar fire) which made it better to take the week off.
Thank you again for reading, and for responding, and for letting me know that I am part of conversatiions of which I am not even aware.
Affectionately yours, Dr Bear.
Egads! That must have been a terrible sticky, scorched mess to try to clean up…I’m sorry you had to deal with that. And, I concur, one sided conversations are not only difficult but also not nearly as fun as having the immediate response of a group conversation. I was thinking about this today and it occurred to me that perhaps the one sided conversation is not so bad when you are just thinking/talking with yourself; However, if you are putting your ideas “out there” for others to ponder and you are anticipating a response, then it is very difficult to wait for that interaction. This is the first communication of this type that I have ever felt inspired to participate in, and after posting replies I immediately wanted to know the reaction/response to my comments. Is this selfishness or just human nature? (Hmm… maybe human nature is synonymous with selfishness?) In the very least, it is a wonderful way to discipline yourself to have patience! (In this world of instant gratification, patience almost seems a foreign concept.) Also, I have a question …. What is the etiquette here? How long do you continue one chain of discussion? Is it appropriate to reply to replies? (Do you have a way to know if someone has commented on articles from “the past”?) Another thing that has intrigued me with discussion in this format relates to everything I have read that claims technology is leading to the demise of interpersonal communication, for in this case, technology is enhancing it.
I suppose you continue it until it becomes unwieldy.
Back in the days when it was still just voice-mail, before e-mail, I remember realizing that the amount of time folks anticipated waiting for a response to a voice-mail was less than the amount they waited for a message left with a receptionist/secretary/administrative assistant. As the administrative assistant, the fact that a call had gone to voice-mail meant I was swamped, so this was unrealistic.