Talk, talk, talk...

I have a friend who, when arriving at a destination, immediately starts to think about leaving. As a result he spends his time at each place distracted by his need to engineer a reason for departing. This is equally distracting for the people around him who are happy to dwell in the company of each other.

Or at least that was how I always read the situation, but just recently I’ve come to question this assumption. Because, it appears to me, most people in my company seem forever looking for an exit. I’ve checked my personal hygiene and am satisfied that I’m wafting out nothing stronger than eau de spring freshness.

This feeling has been exacerbated by the lack of communication coming my way. Everyone, especially in my work life, appear to be ignoring me. Phone calls are not returned, e-mails remain unanswered. It’s very disconcerting. It's like being in a faulty radio. I'm transmitting but not receiving.

Have I become boring? I know I can appear unwelcoming: if my face were a dog it would be a Pug. But most people realise, after a few minutes in my company, that under my bleak Dartmoor exterior there is an exuberant Torquay.

I’ve been bobbing around in mild paranoia about this for the last few days but this morning, while I was thinking about a meeting I had yesterday, the solution hit me. I’ve forgotten how to talk.

Those of you that bother to read past the third line of these blog entries (paranoia again) will know I am about to embark on a marketing campaign that will turn me into a multi-millionare by the end of the year, or possibly November. Apropos this I met with a design agency. Usually I am very confident in these situations. I understand how to compose my requirements into a cogent, meaningful proposition that is lucid, succinct, well thought out, and measured. So how come when I opened my mouth the words came out like an orchestra warming up? I could see her eyes wandering over my shoulder and strolling through the window to the car park outside. It’s very humbling to know that you are less interesting than a car park. Fair enough if it was a multi-story, but this was on one level, and didn’t even have clamping signs.

Despite spending all day, every day, communicating in the written word I frequently go all day without uttering a sentence to anyone. I think this may be the root of my problem. The tongue, after all, is a muscle. And muscles without exercise wither. So it logically follows that I’m losing the apparatus required to converse. What I need is a training regime to help me regain my ability to talk. A tongue tone up, or maybe a mouth marathon? Perhaps a talking tour, or maybe I should get up to date and turn this old fashioned Blog into a Podcast?

I’d welcome your suggestions, but not by mail please: could you talk to me instead?...