Archive for April, 2014

It’s My Turn To Talk

Tuesday, April 1st, 2014

me((the following is a satire inspired by a dear friend)).

Welcome back to My Turn to Talk, a hard-hitting talk show that asks hard questions and gives even harder answers but absolutely does not accept guest speakers nor answer callers.

Please! I have to remind you again, DO NOT CALL IN. It’s my turn to talk, not yours. If you want to talk, get your own radio show. This one is mine. We’ll talk more about that later (or at least I will), but first a word from the sponsor: me. I write and produce My Turn To Talk out of my own pocket, and I do not accept advertising, because then I’d have to waste valuable air time letting them or their spokespeople talk.

Thanks for listening. The key word in that sentence is listening, not speaking. It’s my turn to talk. On this show, it’s always my turn. John Richards from Indiana writes, “I think…” blah blah blah. Somehow I don’t think he’s really getting into the spirit of this, because if I read his letter it would be just like he was talking, not me, and it’s not his turn.

I’ve been told by some ladies that I don’t listen when they’re speaking to me, and I’d like to correct that impression right now. It’s not about you, ladies. I don’t listen to anyone when they’re speaking to me. Not just ladies. Doesn’t matter whether you’re young, old, male, female, famous, obscure, or whatever. If you’re speaking, then I’m not listening. I’m planning how I’ll interrupt you to get the floor back, because you’re hogging the bandwidth, you’re stepping on my airtime. And besides, it’s my turn to talk. Always.

Now you might think I’m overdoing it a little, but that would be impossible. I’m a white male, so obviously I know everything and every word from my lips is another pearl of wisdom. I think in paragraphs, sometimes in entire pages at a time, and if I seem to speak in long sentences then I can assure you that they aren’t nearly long enough to encode every nuance, every reflection, every priceless observation from my one-of-a-kind brain whose inner workings you are sometimes fortunate enough to eavesdrop on. Once I start another golden thought, it doesn’t matter how bored or uninterested you are; I am going to finish the thought at all costs, and no interruption, counter-quote, interjection, expostulation, tirade, divorce, restraining order or impending lawsuit is going to silence me or in any way cut short the flow of verbal treasure from my overactive and incessantly churning cerebral cortex — I cannot afford to waste such perfect gems of thought no matter how unappreciative or selfish you or any other listeners might choose to be when I am verbalizing. Because it’s my turn to talk.

I don’t watch TV because the people on it insist on talking and I have to shout very loud to speak over them. I don’t listen to the radio, not even my own previously-recorded shows, because what I’m thinking right now obviously takes precedence over what any idiot (including me) has ever said in the past. I’m all about now, and particularly what I’m saying right now, and it always amazes me that others don’t seem to understand that they are supposed to be listening. It’s my turn to talk. Can I put it any simpler than that? Maybe I can, but what would be the point of that? It might give you the impression that I am done and you can talk now. But you can’t. Do you remember why? Do I have to keep reminding you? Because I can, and I will.

That reminds me of a funny story. The other day I was at a restaurant and the waiter seemed to have the mistaken impression that he was allowed to ask me what I wanted to eat. A rookie mistake, but I forgave him because I was in a good mood, having spent the previous half hour explaining to him my take on postmodern deconstructionism and its roots in the diatribal ruminations of Johnathan Swift and Upton Sinclair. After forgiving him for his interruption and restating my conclusions in elaborate and unnecessary detail, I further speculated that if he was patient enough to stand there for another three hours I might be inclined to work my way around to the subject of what I had originally come to the restaurant to consume on this occasion. As the customer, of course I am always right no matter how long-winded or pedantic I might appear to those with shorter attention spans, and the fact that he might be earning numerous tips from other patrons during the same time he received enlightenment from me was hardly my concern. After all, it was my turn to talk.


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