In movies, you always see the guy. You know who I mean. The strong, silent type. Few words spoken, but when he does speak, it matters. The iconic badass.
That ain’t me, babe.
Oh no no, that ain’t me.
I’m a yapper. A raconteur. A conversationalist. I’ve been yapping since the day I could yap.
If I had a superpower, it’d be this: I can talk to anyone, anywhere, anytime, about anything. I love conversations. I love stories. And yeah, if you put me on a therapist’s couch long enough, maybe they’d say I love the sound of my own voice and have an absurd idea that my voice overly matters.
But that’s not it. I just have things to say. People I want to meet. Stuff I want to learn. Stories to hear. Stories to tell.
I’ll never be the strong, silent type. If you ever see me go quiet, you’ll know something’s wrong. As the great Jerry Weintraub said, “when I stop talking, you’ll know I’m dead.”
Until then? I’ll be right here. Yapping away.