The Gift of Gab
by John Vinopal
“Well, you’re one to talk…” I’m sure you have heard this before— an accusation typically aimed at the pot calling the kettle black. When directed at me, however, it is simply a statement of the obvious. I talk a lot. Politics, sports, past experiences, personal opinions… I never seem to run out of material and rarely stop talking even if I do. I have plenty of family and friends with ears to bend, but I can also strike up a conversation with complete strangers or nobody at all. The advantage of talking to yourself is that you are always right!!
I am aware that silence is golden and I apologize to those who have been trapped during one of my rants, but like a person with Tourette’s syndrome, it is not always in my control. I come from a long line of talkers, so my gift for gab is not a switch that I can easily turn on and off. I hope I haven’t inconvenienced anyone and that I occasionally tell you something that you didn’t already know. Either way, I simply can’t help myself!
I come from a very large, very loud family, so you really only have two ways to go in life: fight to be heard or get buried in the mayhem. I obviously chose the former, but realize I have siblings that would be considered “quiet”, so I recognize it was a choice. My mother was a talker and I’m my momma’s boy. I actually remember feeling badly for the poor souls who merely wanted to check-out of the grocery store, only to be trapped in line with a sweet lady who felt it necessary to share with them the status and history of the whole Vinopal Family.
I’m sure my mother was unaware she was monopolizing the moment with words that nobody really needed to hear and also unaware that on occasion, her audience was completely nonexistent. When my father passed away, mom lived with me for a few months while she arranged her future without dad. One night, I joined my wife in our family room, leaving my mother alone in the kitchen ranting about something she had read in the newspaper. “Who is mom talking to?” my wife asked me. “Me.” I replied. “Don’t you think you should be in there listening?” my wife asked. “It doesn’t seem to matter.” I replied.
Despite being an occasional annoyance, I am thankful for my gift of gab and all that it has brought me in my life. I am also grateful to the editor of The Almanac, because writing is one way to use my gift without cornering an unwilling audience. Most of my articles are based on topics I’ve spoken about, but by writing instead of speaking, I gain one huge advantage: EDITING. The problem with oral communications is there is no way to UNSAY something once the words escape. I can only imagine how conversations would be improved if we all had an internal word count function when interacting with others.
In the politically charged environment we are all suffering through, a mute button would also be a helpful feature in face-to-face communications. Where we all have our ideas on candidates and political ideologies, many choose to remain silent on the issues, providing those of us with the will to speak too much opportunity to do so. I prefer that we exchange those ideas, however polarized they may be, so that we can have all the cards on the table and know precisely how we feel and why. Much of what I know, I’ve learned while trying to explain my position to someone who knew more than I did and wasn’t afraid to correct me. I try to respect the wishes of those who would rather hear and speak no evil, but sadly, where politics are involved, there is far too much yelling. I just hope the most important voices are not drowned out in the process.
So yes, I am one to talk and I see no hope in trying to stop. It has really become a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don’t situation for me. If I am quiet, everyone wonders if there is something wrong. Well, I won’t make you wonder. I will definitely let you know. And for my really close friends, if I am talking your ear off, feel free to tell me to shut my cake hole. I totally understand.
Back to John's Page
Can not be reproduced or used without written permission All rights reserved, copyright, 2016
by John Vinopal
“Well, you’re one to talk…” I’m sure you have heard this before— an accusation typically aimed at the pot calling the kettle black. When directed at me, however, it is simply a statement of the obvious. I talk a lot. Politics, sports, past experiences, personal opinions… I never seem to run out of material and rarely stop talking even if I do. I have plenty of family and friends with ears to bend, but I can also strike up a conversation with complete strangers or nobody at all. The advantage of talking to yourself is that you are always right!!
I am aware that silence is golden and I apologize to those who have been trapped during one of my rants, but like a person with Tourette’s syndrome, it is not always in my control. I come from a long line of talkers, so my gift for gab is not a switch that I can easily turn on and off. I hope I haven’t inconvenienced anyone and that I occasionally tell you something that you didn’t already know. Either way, I simply can’t help myself!
I come from a very large, very loud family, so you really only have two ways to go in life: fight to be heard or get buried in the mayhem. I obviously chose the former, but realize I have siblings that would be considered “quiet”, so I recognize it was a choice. My mother was a talker and I’m my momma’s boy. I actually remember feeling badly for the poor souls who merely wanted to check-out of the grocery store, only to be trapped in line with a sweet lady who felt it necessary to share with them the status and history of the whole Vinopal Family.
I’m sure my mother was unaware she was monopolizing the moment with words that nobody really needed to hear and also unaware that on occasion, her audience was completely nonexistent. When my father passed away, mom lived with me for a few months while she arranged her future without dad. One night, I joined my wife in our family room, leaving my mother alone in the kitchen ranting about something she had read in the newspaper. “Who is mom talking to?” my wife asked me. “Me.” I replied. “Don’t you think you should be in there listening?” my wife asked. “It doesn’t seem to matter.” I replied.
Despite being an occasional annoyance, I am thankful for my gift of gab and all that it has brought me in my life. I am also grateful to the editor of The Almanac, because writing is one way to use my gift without cornering an unwilling audience. Most of my articles are based on topics I’ve spoken about, but by writing instead of speaking, I gain one huge advantage: EDITING. The problem with oral communications is there is no way to UNSAY something once the words escape. I can only imagine how conversations would be improved if we all had an internal word count function when interacting with others.
In the politically charged environment we are all suffering through, a mute button would also be a helpful feature in face-to-face communications. Where we all have our ideas on candidates and political ideologies, many choose to remain silent on the issues, providing those of us with the will to speak too much opportunity to do so. I prefer that we exchange those ideas, however polarized they may be, so that we can have all the cards on the table and know precisely how we feel and why. Much of what I know, I’ve learned while trying to explain my position to someone who knew more than I did and wasn’t afraid to correct me. I try to respect the wishes of those who would rather hear and speak no evil, but sadly, where politics are involved, there is far too much yelling. I just hope the most important voices are not drowned out in the process.
So yes, I am one to talk and I see no hope in trying to stop. It has really become a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don’t situation for me. If I am quiet, everyone wonders if there is something wrong. Well, I won’t make you wonder. I will definitely let you know. And for my really close friends, if I am talking your ear off, feel free to tell me to shut my cake hole. I totally understand.
Back to John's Page
Can not be reproduced or used without written permission All rights reserved, copyright, 2016