cdmCyclist

As social media sinks deep roots into the soil of our relationships, how do our listening skills evolve?

Listening, it’s important for our friendships, advocacy, too

As I’ve embraced a bicycle lifestyle, the radius of my in-person interactions has shrunk. I’m no longer willing to hop in the car to drive halfway across Los Angeles to take a meeting. I’m fine with that; if it’s beyond the range of a bike ride I’m probably staying at home.

At home I spend too much time on the computer, so when I do meet a friend for coffee I’m eager for the experience. Often I come away unsatisfied.

It could be self-selection. After all, my social circle includes people a lot like me who are working at home, people with a lot on their mind.

What are the keys to good listening? And have they changed in this digital era?

Listening is made up of two parts: the actual listening and equally important, the talking part. When we’re sharing stories with friends at lunch, how we share matters.

• Take a breath; let your companion get a word in. The most satisfying chats have lots of back and forth, so don’t monopolize the conversation. You may have a lot to share, but invite interruptions. You may have had exciting travel over the holidays, but toss the ball into their court, “When was the last time you were in Mozambique?”
• It’s easy to be a good talker, simply maintain eye contact. If you do you’ll see your friend blink away if you begin to over do your side of the conversation.

People often ask about my radio background, but I didn’t have one. The skills needed to interview guests here and much earlier for the Frank Peters Show, I had to learn as I went along.

One recent interview had me thinking once again about listening. This guest came well prepared for his appearance on the Show; as I asked a question, he responded with a long answer, a little too long, so I had little chance to kibitz, to contribute to the dialog. Maybe my audience won’t notice, but I did and I felt something less than the best came out of our 30 minutes together.

The trick with interviewing over the phone – there’s no eye contact. A webcam can help, but most of the time I turn off the video feed, I’m afraid my subject with be unnerved as he or she watches me do all the technician duties while doing the interview. It could be distracting, so it’s audio only most of the time.

As more of our social interactions occur online, our in-person exchanges matter more. Take the time to polish the talking part of your listening skills. You’ll be as much the beneficiary as your friend.

Cars make me paranoid, but I wasn’t always like this.

Once upon a time I was happy to hop in the car and drive just about anywhere, but now that I know how dangerous driving can be, I think twice.

To feed teenagers last night we ordered a pizza for delivery; two it turned out. I hesitated at first, but went along with the idea; it was early still. Later when our 21 year-old came home with twenty of his friends, pizza delivery came up again.

“It’s bad karma,” I objected, “We’re putting the delivery kid on the road on a bad night.”

It must have made my wife think twice; besides, the youngsters were more interested in beer than food.

But how did I get so paranoid? The family car seems innocuous to so many. What happened to me?

I started riding a bicycle again.

Perhaps because I’d taken the better part of 35 years away from the bike, the reunion was intoxicating. I loved riding my bike and soon discovered what a great place my neighborhood is for riding. Yes, cars had to be watched out for, but it seemed safe enough.

Haunting memories of twisted motorists, I’ve filed most of those away; they only bother me for a day or so, the really bad ones. My awareness of this current affliction is more deep-seated.

Humans love to rationalize, so let me peel this onion.

Of course, I’ve stuffed my head with bike advocacy articles, stories, blogs and books. Try reading Carjacked and see what it does to your sense of well-being behind the wheel.

More recently I’ve been knocking off a chapter at a time, Suburban Nation, the Rise of Sprawl and the Decline of the American Dream. It’s doing its part. I’m newly aware of how we’re all screwed by suburbia, especially when I consider local life here in Newport Beach and Irvine, hey, Laguna Beach, too. I wanna blame The Irvine Company, but it’s happened everywhere across the country. The automobile facilitated sprawl and now we’re stuck with the consequences. Worse yet, there’s no way out, not in our lifetime.

Yes, it’s time for a mid-day alcoholic beverage. The oft-effect of depression will likely be counteracted the way I’m feeling.

Rotterdam’s got the right idea: separated bike paths

But it’s one thing to read, or even to listen, but first-hand experience, that leaves more of a mark. My mind immediately jumps to the time together with Tom Godefrooij in Utrecht in November. What did he say to make me so jumpy?

Simple things like, “Mixing high speed cars and bicycles is dangerous.” But it had a delayed effect; it’s one thing to sit at his knee as he describes the Dutch safety consciousness, then to see it for myself, in 4 different cities across the Netherlands. The delayed effect didn’t trigger the paranoia until I was home for a few days, not until my new Dutch eyes saw the conditions of our bicycle infrastructure here in Orange County. Too many familiar routes begin to look dangerous to this Dutch tourist.

Cars off your elbow, flying by. Mom’s in SUVs, distracted by wailing kids, like that black Mercedes on Coast Hwy in CdM last week — she didn’t just miss me as she passed me on the Sharrows — I swear she never even saw me and I’m here today out of sheer luck.

But possibly the single biggest impact on my heebie jeebies is Ted Rogers. On his bikingInLA blog he’s been writing for days about how too many motorists are driving half-blitzed this time of year — riding defensively doesn’t seem like enough of a shield to me.

I talked to my sister this morning. If I had confessed these feelings of anxiety, I know what she would say, “Stop reading those books; stop reading that blog!”

Maybe I could, with the books, but try to look away after following bikingInLA for a year or so. Ted chronicles many aspects of bicycle life here in the Southland, but it’s his seemingly never ending posts of fatalities that’s hard to turn away from. Is it the “that could’ve been me” syndrome that brings me back?

Ted tracks and tallies the more macabre aspects of riding a bike. His count is set to zero for the moment.

While I ponder all these contributors to my present mental health I think I’ll get on my bike and go for a ride…