We need a return of the lost art of proper conversation
In a matter of days, we will take the next tentative steps towards coming out of our latest lockdown purgatory. From Monday we will no longer have to justify leaving our front garden and will, once again, be able to meet up to five other people outdoors – a freedom we wouldn’t have dreamed of celebrating little more than a year ago.
Playing tennis or basketball on open-air courts will no longer carry the risk of you being landed with a fine, and retired salesmen will be able to dig out their best V-neck sweaters and get back onto the golf course, although, given the option of teeing off or sorting out my sock drawer, the tedious household chore would win every time.
While we will still have to wait a fortnight before we can scoff Scotch eggs in beer gardens, next week still promises to be a huge cause for celebration as it will mean that we will be able to engage in something approaching meaningful human contact once again.
Even though all of us love our families, talking to your nearest and dearest about what’s for tea the following day or whether the patio needs sweeping again, does begin to grate after a while.
The prospect of talking unadulterated cobblers to people with who you don’t share a breakfast table is something that most people I know are genuinely looking forward to.
It is widely accepted that this latest lockdown has proved to be the toughest of the lot – a combination of being worn down by the first two, the fact that it has made the winter months drag on for even longer than they ought to, or the realisation that the coronavirus nightmare has been going on for a year.
Unless you are a crashingly dull anti-lockdown halfwit who thinks standing within coughing distance from other like-minded fools at city centre protests is the way to end a pandemic, the vast majority have done what has been asked of us.
But it has been tough and, a few oddballs aside, none of us have enjoyed the lockdown, largely because it deprives us of much-needed human interaction.
You only have to visit the car park of any supermarket – one of the few places most of us are allowed to visit right now – to see shoppers deep in conversation.
I’ve lost count of the number of times during the past few months that I’ve struck up a conversation with somebody I barely know as I go about my daily business.
In days gone by, a typically British encounter with a passing acquaintance would have warranted a nod of the head, possibly an ‘alright mate’ and, if you were born before 1950, tipping one’s hat.
In 2021, seeing somebody you vaguely know as you pick up a week’s supply of pastry products is a green light to update them on
Being able to look people in the eye while I spout my nonsense is something I can’t wait to do again
what you’ve been up to since last March, which in reality is very little indeed.
But that doesn’t stop me and, in my experience, those on the receiving end of my rapid-fire stream of consciousness seem only too happy to listen to it, such is their own need for grown-up conversation.
I’ve been wrong about this kind of thing before, but next week could mark a turning point for millions of us, an opportunity to take our friendships offline and rediscover the art of spouting nonsense face to face. Although a regular user of social media myself, these platforms have both altered and harmed the way we interact with one another and a year of maintaining friendships only via a screen should serve as a wake-up call to us all that we are generally at our best when we are with others.
There is still a long way to go until we can sing Knees Up Mother Brown in the Dog and Duck but being able to look people in the eye while I spout my nonsense is something I can’t wait to do again.