As I anticipate the immediate success of Spare Me the Monologue!, I am prepared for the impending interview questions about the genesis of the show, which will allow me to take the audience back to my moment of epiphany when I knew I wanted to work in reality television. I will describe that fateful afternoon when I realized I was not having a conversation, but rather was trapped in my friend's mind-numbing monologue. That was the moment, I will say to George Stroumboulopoulos, who will be interviewing me on The Hour, that I knew I must help people to become better conversationalists, or else go mad and become a reclusive crank.
             Now, George, who always asks good questions, leans forward and asks, “Define conversation.” I clarify that I am not ranting against the social necessities of chit-chat or small talk—hideous though they can be. What I crave and passionately care about is conversation that deepens relationships. I want to help friends be better friends, and family members be better family members, through conversation. Conversations must be framed by thoughtful questions, sustained by a mutual posture of listening well, and must continue to help people learn about one another. To paraphrase Milton Wright, whose 1936 book is entitled The Art of Conversation, to chatter is easy, but to talk with purpose is an art. I think too often we settle for a lot of chatter and too few meaningful conversations, or worse, we lapse into the dreaded “mutual monologue.”
             A dialogue is defined as a conversation between two people and a monologue is defined as a long speech which monopolizes conversation. It is easy to monologue and hard to have a conversation. It is easy to chatter, as Milton Wright says, and hard to speak with purpose. A conversation between friends will allow both individuals to share and to listen. A dialogue between people who care about one another will result in a deeper mutual understanding. At its best, a conversation between two people will be an act of “loving your neighbor.” These conversations may not happen all the time, but they should happen often, and we should actively pursue them.
             George nods thoughtfully and asks bluntly, “So, have you mastered the art of conversation, or can you be a droner?” With a self-deprecating laugh, I admit that I am still learning the art of conversation. While there is certainly a time and a place for whining, droning, and being the expert in the room, we must aspire to do more: we should share our lives when we converse. Our ability to communicate our emotions, our thoughts, our fears and joys is a gift and is part of our identity as human beings. Being mindful of how we engage in intentional conversation and how we connect is the first step toward leaving the monologue, and disconnection, behind.
             Nodding enthusiastically, George apologizes that our time is limited and we are nearing the end of our interview: “Any last thoughts?” I reply with a quip from the master, Yogi Berra: “It was impossible to get a conversation going; everybody was talking too much.” Conversation is a gift, a powerful means of connection, and when two people monologue at one another it is not a conversation—just a badly staged play. So ask thoughtful questions, friends. Listen well. Speak with purpose. Let your relationships grow through conversation. It’s like we always say on our show: “Don’t settle for a monologue when you could have a conversation.”