“And hear the sounds of Bert… I mean silence.”

Good day my committed readership of three, or one, or zero. Sorry for the lapse in writing. I had to take some time out to work on writing that I actually get paid for. That was followed by a wonderful stretch of vacation and holidays. But now I am back for the Christmas season, and hopefully posting more regularly.

I once heard on average men speak 15,000 words in a day and women speak 30,000. If you know me, that number seems a little high. 15,000 words, in a week perhaps. In any given room, in any given situation, there is a 99% chance that I am the quietest person in the room. No, I don’t have the weakest voice, I just say the least.

This is always the way it has been. I don’t know why. I’ve never had much of a problem with this. Yes, being questioned from kindergarten on as to “why don’t you talk more” does get old, but it beats the alternative of actually talking. I also frequently get the “are you alright,” “are you upset about something,” and my favorite, “are we boring you?”

After reading my blog one of Gert’s friends commented to her, “who knew your husband was so articulate. If we would have known that maybe we would have let him get a word in when we went out.” Great! I thought. And then I thought some more. Who knew I was so articulate? What had everyone thought of me up until that point? “Hi my name is Gert, I’m a snappy, smart, and stylish public relations consultant. This is my dim, slow, half-witted husband Bert. I took him on as a charity case. After spending five-minutes with him I just took pity on him. Why he can hardly take care of himself.”

While the last portion of that statement may have some validity, I’d like to think the rest of it is not representative of me. I had always been an adherent to the old saying “better to keep your mouth closed and let them think you a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.” Well, I guess that one back-fired on me. I’d been keeping my mouth shut and everyone HAD been thinking I was a fool, or slow, or perhaps had been dropped on my head as a child.

In addition, I am not a slight man. So I fear that due to my not insubstantial size, everyone was going directly to images of Lenny in Of Mice and Men. “Tell them about the rabbits Gert, tell them about the rabbits.”

While I cannot say that I never have lapses in common sense, I’d like to think that my intelligence hovers a decent bit above Lurch. So if you’ve only had the pleasure of “socializing” with me when I provide dull one-word answers, please don’t hold it against Gert. There was a time I was charming and witty, and perhaps I still can be. But proving so would require actually talking, so I will for now opt for the alternative of keeping my mouth and letting them think me a fool.