The Art of Conversation

I went to the grocery store around Groundhog Day, and the lady at the checkout stand tried to strike a conversation with me. "How's the weather? Is it still foggy out there?"

I told her it was.

"Hopefully it will snow and clear out the inversion," she said at the exact time I said, "At least it's better than snow."

Still trying to be friendly, she commented on Groundhog Day and asked does it mean six more weeks of winter if the groundhog sees his shadow, or six more weeks if he doesn't?

I explained that if the groundhog sees his shadow, he gets scared and goes back underground to hibernate for six more weeks.

"Really?" the checkout lady said, and I could tell that she didn't believe me. It is rather anti-intuitive, since shadows are cast by sun, and sun should mean a shorter winter. She said something to this effect: "I'll have to look it up when I get home."

I refrained from explaining to her that I was one hundred percent positive about my response, since my family has an old Jack Frost movie in which it's a plot point that Jack Frost casts a shadow to scare a groundhog back into hiding in order to extend winter six more weeks.

A few days later, I went to get my hair cut. I didn't intend to get into a conversation, but I couldn't refrain from commenting on the book that my hairstylist had sitting at her station. We instantly were talking about books, about family, about dating. The two experiences couldn't have been more different. It's funny how that works.