I think it’s a good skill being able to adjust your style of conversation depending on who is around you. It simply shows your respect for other participants. I’ve known people, who could do this and some who couldn’t. And no matter how interesting the latter were, sooner or later you realized, they were not interested in conversation, but only in a monologue. If I want to be by myself, I stay at home alone; if I’m with people, I’m interested in exchange, and I’m assuming others are too, otherwise what’s the point?

If you only always listen to your own voice, no matter how cool and right your opinions may seem to you, you lose perspective (read: start cooking in your own juices, translating an old Russian saying). This may (or may not) lead to weird things. I actually heard people say, that they would never even consider other people’s opinions about their actions because there couldn’t possibly be a better judge of them, than themselves. How about that?!

P.S. I agree w/ Penelope… Francoise is one of the “cooler” people I’ve met and I’m looking forward to seeing her again at your NY Eve party! And you too of course!

You’ve told me that Françoise, being her deeply insightful self, pointed out that you tend to be attracted to “artist types”—also known as “highly sensitive people”—and this may not be a good thing, since you’re not that type of person, and so you tend to accidentally do things that really upset them. Why is it that you gravitate towards such sensitive people?

I think the answer is clear: You’ve had the honor of knowing one of the best people the sensitive side of the human race has to offer. People who speak softly, feel deeply, and notice small details remind you of one of the coolest people you know. Not all sensitive people are that cool, but some of them are, so it’s wonderful that Françoise has taught you how to hang out with them.

An idea which intrigues me, and which this entry brings up, is how we have different surface personalities depending on who we’re with. For example, you have learned to become more polite and thoughtful when listening to quieter people like Françoise, but you’re still able to plow right through and keep up with folks like the Israeli businessmen, your family, or my brother. (Incedentally, it may be a Chicago culture thing. My dad, Scottish Methodist, but raised in Chicago, talked just like you do when you’re in your best debater mode, and my brother, who idealized Dad, gets along famously with you when you’re like that, as you’ll recall.) I think this is really cool. Adjusting our style for who we’re with seems to me to be the height of good listening skills.

For me, I’ve noticed that I clam up around extreme fast-push-through types (like my brother, or you in debater mode), but I become much bubblier when I’m around slightly exuberant folks, like you on most days. During a quiet conversation when you weren’t around, Aaron observed, “Wow. You’re really different when you’re not around Ron.”

I had to think about whether I should worry about that. Now I don’t think I should. I just enjoy the interesting effect. Similarly, one of the things I really liked about my guitar buddy Brian, a very quiet, soft-spoken soul, was that without thinking about it, I was a quieter and gentler person when I was around him. Being affected by different people is kinda cool.