Is Small Talk Another COVID Casualty?

Okay, the title of this piece might be a little misleading. I’m not mourning the loss of small talk. I’m generally not a fan of small talk at all. It’s conversation that doesn’t really get you anywhere. You’re presumably supposed to be easing into a deeper conversation. But more often than not, the small talk is over and you’re going your separate ways before you get anywhere meaningful, and you’re like “What just happened?”

On the other hand, small talk is something we’ve all learned to manage over the years. It’s an easy way to have passing connections that maintain without detaining. You get on the elevator with a colleague, and here’s the inevitable result:

“Hey, Jen. How’s it going?”

“Pretty well, Alex. You?

“Oh, you know. Getting by.”

“Nice. How are the kids?” “Not bad. Grant is a spitfire, you know?”

“Oh yeah, I remember those days.”

“Any big plans for the weekend?”

“Not sure. Might try that new restaurant in the Crossroads. Tacos. Can’t go wrong.”

“Totally. I heard their margaritas are pretty potent.”

“Bonus! Anyway, what about you?”

“Think I’ll catch the new Marvel movie. Black Widow. Or maybe Wonder Woman. (DC is a mess, but at least they have Wonder Woman.) Or Disney or Pixar or whatever the kids and I all want to see.”

“Nice! Okay, here we are. Have a good one!” “You too! Kill those tacos!” “Ha! DONE!”

I don’t mean to make too much light of this. I like having quick, easy interactions with friends. I miss the hell out of that, actually. (I miss the normalcy of elevators, come to think of it.) But I guess one of the biggest things that’s been lost in the last four months is our ability to chat in passing.

First of all, we're not passing as often these days (for obvious reasons.) But even when we do, there’s just not that much to chat about right now.

When I get together with friends I haven’t seen in a while (on opposite sides of a porch or a driveway), we talk about the ways we’ve gotten through the mess we’ve all been in during the last four months. Grant learned to ride a bike. (That’s huge!) Conor learned to play Gin Rummy and made some good progress in Scouts. (Cool!) We went for a lot of walks in the woods. We watched some amazing TV shows. (Ozark, Fleabag, Run.) Politics? Masks? Can’t talk about that, really, because they’re so divisive and everybody is making up their own rules like it’s the wild, wild west.

There haven’t been any sports, unless you’re counting the Bulls’ 1998 run in ESPN's The Last Dance (which was incredible, but happened 22 years ago).

There haven’t been any movies, unless you’re counting Onward and Hamilton and Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker on streaming. No Wonder Woman: 1984, no Black Widow, no James Bond: No Time to Die…nothing all that new.

No Coachella. No Bonnaroo. No SXSW. No concerts of any sort. I was supposed to see The Decemberists and Vampire Weekend this summer. Not happening now.

No San Diego, Emerald City, or Planet Comic Con.

No vacations. No Europe, no Florida, no Tennessee, no Colorado or Pacific Coast.

No state fairs. No fried Snickers or funnel cakes. No normal summer stuff.

No new restaurants or bars. If anything, we talk about favorite restaurants we’ve lost. (R.I.P., TikiCat and Flying Saucer.)

Our only consistent go-tos are the ways we’re getting by. And then stories of who we used to be and what we used to do when we had the freedom and be and do what we wanted. In theory, those are useful ways of getting to know each other. They’re fun, and they make us laugh. But they’re not connected to a vibrant present. Not collectively. Not together.

… Now that I think about it, I don’t hate small-talk so much after all. I miss having a steady, forward-moving, lived-in present to connect with other people over. I want to hear what other people are doing/watching/experiencing, but I also want to have something interesting to say.

Last night I watched a couple episodes of Cheers. I’ve been making my way off-and-on through this show for a couple months when I need comfort viewing, and I’m currently on Season 4. Diane has dated and broken up with both Sam and Frazier, Coach is gone and Woody has arrived, and we’ve been introduced to Lilith. Norm and Cliff are my coronavirus spirit humans. But you know who I can talk to about this? Exactly nobody, because this show is 35 years old. I’m all alone here.

I know this is all kind of petty and unimportant. I’m talking about conversation content, when there are plenty of real-life problems and challenges facing all of us. Housing, food, the job market, and public health are obviously the biggest priorities right now. But the last few months have made me realize just how much we take for granted when we’re going about our normal business during normal times, floating in and out of each other’s lives and touching base as we wait for things to happen.

I used to dread having to make small talk about unimportant, random shit. Now I wish I could talk enthusiastically to people I haven't seen for far too long about nothing much at all. But I also wish there was more to talk about. I miss that stuff, too.