Talkaholism by Jenn McKinlay

JENN McKINLAY: Here’s the thing. I have a problem. I am a talkaholic. See? I know I have a talking problem. I do. I just can’t seem to zip the lips, shut my trap, close up the pie hole. Given a venue, an outlet, a captive audience, I will talk and talk and talk and talk…you get the idea.

Lorelei from the Gilmore Girls is my spirit animal.

Why am I like this? The first reason that leaps to mind is personal, but I’ll share because really when has self restraint ever stopped me? I like to think of my childhood as Crazy Train broke down in Dysfunction Junction. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my family, but there is no question that things were so far from The Brady Bunch we were not just in another zipcode, we had left the state, probably with our possessions tucked into duffel bags and under the cover of darkness. That is what growing up in the house of a raging narcissist will do for you. Sorry, Dad, I love you dearly, but truly, it felt like an emotional hostage situation a good portion of the time. Side note: My dad passed away a couple of years ago, and I am ever grateful that we managed to become very close friends in the last few decades of his life. 

So, the talking. I think it developed to fill the gaps. If there was silence at the dinner table, I felt compelled to fill the void with humor, silliness, stories of self deprecation, anything really to short circuit the tension that ran through our house like a live electric wire. It also helped distract from the fact that I was hiding my zucchini between the seat cushion and the seat. Survival of the fittest, amiright? My mother and brother are quiet people. They most likely would have preferred that I downshift my motor mouth, but I was convinced that if I could just keep everything light and funny then we would all survive another day without drama. Sometimes it worked, sometimes not so much.

You would think that after I left home, I would retool the arsenal, develop some new skills, dial back the talking. Nope. At this point, being a jabberer was how I navigated every new situation. Seriously, I can talk to anyone and I will find common ground with them. I will make them laugh even if I have to herniate myself to do it. The Hub and Hooligans, bless their hearts, know if we go out to eat, the waiter will be my new BFF by the time the meal is done, or the clerk at the store, or the taxi driver, even the guys teaching us to surf on our trip to Hawaii became my besties. They also told us where to get the best authentic Hawaiian food, so being a talker has its perks, I’m just sayin’.

Here’s the other reason I think I'm a talker. Being a writer, for me, is like standing in a treasure trove of shiny sparkling objects that are scattered as far as the eye can see. I spend most of my days feeling like my brain is on fire! Sparkle! Whoa, there’s a kernel of an idea for a YA novel! Oh, look over there, a rom-com. Wait. Shiny alert! That’s the thriller I was thinking about. Oh, damn, I just stubbed my toe on the book that is actually due.

Sam Raimi GIF

This is the reason when the Hub comes home, and I greet him at the door already in mid-sentence, he smiles kindly at me and says, “Walk and talk, darlin’.” I then follow him around the house while he does his chores, and I tell him every single thought I’ve had since he left for work in the morning. Yes, he is a saint among men, and the talking helps me grasp those shiny nuggets sparkling in my head.

Now where did this bout of self-awareness about the chattering come from? Well, Hooligan 2 has the same history teacher that Hooligan 1 had a few years ago. This teacher noted that H2, a talker, was not like H1, less of a talker. He asked H2 which parent he took after in regards to the talking and H2 said, “Oh, my mom, definitely, my mom.” (Sigh) It was then that it occurred to me that I've been modeling talkaholism to my hooligans since they were born. Sorry, world!

On the upside, a big part of my talking problem is asking questions, so I’m a pretty snappy listener, too. I have a burning curiosity to understand my fellow humans, so I spend a lot of time asking overly personal and borderline intrusive questions. Clearly, I have boundary issues, too, but that’s a post for another day! Lucky you!

So, Reds and Readers, are you a talker? Or do you prefer companionable silence? Have you ever dumped anyone for talking too much? Asking for a friend. 

Lastly, the winners from our guests this week are...

Sparkle Abbey's The Dogfather to...Grandma Cootie
Heather Blake's audio To Catch a Witch to...Dianne Casey

Email me at jennmck at yahoo dot com and we'll get you hooked up!