Dear Sarah,

There is zero chance that you are a terrible person.

We may be disagreeing about definitions, but I’m not sure. I’ve searched my mental database for moments when I dislike conversation, and found there are plenty. They mainly have to do with organizational topics, or institutional ones. These are things like, “what should the precise title of this job be?” You know, HR stuff. Office of Sponsored Programs stuff. Institutionese. I also detest all species of jargon, though I often find myself engaging in it.

But I love asking the post office worker on the other side of the counter how they’re doing, and don’t require an honest answer from them (though I wouldn’t reject that either). “Fine, and you?” is just great for me. And that might be because I’m an “extrovert,” but I doubt it. In fact, I don’t really think I’m all that much of an extrovert, especially as I get older. I just spent a month in France, and one of the loveliest things about it was my anonymity as I wandered Annecy and Paris (I think one of life’s greatest pleasures is unforced solitude). But even there, it “sparked joy” (how I love that phrase, even though I’m no fan of tidying) to remark about the weather (it was remarkable) or whatever-it-was with strangers. The pleasure is half connection and half personal space. That zone is what small talk affords.

Mind you, I also love deep conversations with close friends and meaningful gatherings. I just don’t see deep conversations and small talk as a forced choice. My closest friend in the world may be my sister Sandy. When we see each other, we may float in and out of light small-talky chitchat, jokey hyperbole, exciting news, and deep conversation about personal pain and fear. I want all of it.

So here’s something interesting, then: What are we talking about, really?

Is it that you feel forced to answer a certain way (“fine”) during small talk? Is it just the predictability of the script? What is the role of affect and non-verbal behavior? What does it all symbolize?

Anyway, I think you’re swell, and I’m not too worried about it. I also happen to know that you make great small talk.

Jim