As a pilot who primarily flew the long-haul routes, I knew that the cockpit could be a place of some of the most interesting conversations imaginable. Since we had plenty of time to chat as we cruised along, there was no limit to the level of detail or the rabbit trails that we could follow during a conversation. In fact, I have always suspected that a good deal of the airline pilot interview is to determine if you can carry on a decent conversation.

Naturally there were colleagues with whom I enjoyed flying with more than others, Those who were informative, witty, and thoughtful all at once made the time, excuse the pun, fly by. Stories of helicopter rescues, sailing adventures, physics, charities, and how to build a deck—anything and everything over the years.

Of course on the other hand, there were those rare few who could make life a living replica of Dante’s circles of Hell. To be honest, some were so bad that I think it would have been a relief to have been in the fiery place instead!

Prolix, and from it prolixity, have always been among my favorite words. They stem from Latin and mean unnecessarily wordy and tedious. One who is afflicted with prolixity is one who, to put it simply, cannot shut up. To call such persons simply verbose or wordy does not describe the verbal waterfall that they constantly emit. Prolix is the perfect word for them and unfortunately, I have had my experiences with a rogues gallery of a select few over the years.

As I sat there in the cockpit drilling through the upper atmosphere with some of these prolific talkers, I started to wonder what psychological causes were behind this logorrhea. What prompt was there to release this stored up warehouse of words? What caused their affliction to be so bad that they could not read body language—at least not mine anyway for after a few minutes I was a listener in name only and I am sure my posture and look reflected it.

Not being skilled in the psychological arts, I boiled it all down to one simple question: Did they never tire of their own narrative? Ever? Even for just a few minutes? The answer, of course, was no. Never.

“Since our lives have not been a conveyor belt of noteworthy achievements, we are actually more interested in what others have to say than we are in trying to recant what we might have done or, more likely, not have done throughout the years.”

Yet these Prolixers as I call them, made me appreciate all the more the great skills that the average have: They can often be good listeners, good observers, and even good readers. Since our lives have not been a conveyor belt of noteworthy achievements, we are actually more interested in what others have to say than we are in trying to recant what we might have done or, more likely, not have done throughout the years.

Now to be fair I am sure that you are asking then why in the blazes then why do I post all my essays on a website with paragraph after paragraph of my own opinion on all things average. Fair dinkum as those in Oz would say. Well, I would like to think that I have invited you in for a chat—that I have as much to learn, probably even more, than you have to learn from me. To allow that I give room for comment and contact and you can pick and choose what to read. Those who are not interested are free to go although I would miss them, I enjoy having them here and hearing what they have to say. I offer an open microphone… well, at least an open keyboard should they wish.

With the prolix, however, they are masters at cornering you and monopolizing your time and your personal space. They are in many ways bullies and selfish. At the workplace, on an airplane, in the cockpit, in a meeting—all places where one has no recourse other than to just be out-of-character brusk and tell them to bottle it…and even then it might not work as the person might be your boss! These situations are all too real and all too unpleasant. In these cases, I would say that time definitely does not heal all wounds as these encounters can remain terrible memories for years afterward.

The late Christopher Hitchens once gave us the admonishment that if we are speaking for more than three minutes and we are not a featured speaker, instructing, or delivering a lecture that we need to immediately stop—we have gone on too long and it is time for the other person to talk.

Since the average have wonderfully tired of their own narratives year ago, they are wonderful companions for just about any undertaking. They intuitively know that perfect balance between speaking and listening. They are neither that creepy class of people who ask so many questions that you would think you are under an FBI investigation (priers I call them) nor do they just stare in mute and dumb acquiescence while you hold forth. They know how to move a conversation along.

Even better, the average are excellent observers and readers—both of body language and of the written word. Since they are not used to commanding the room, so to speak, they have learned to fit comfortably in. They often notice the details that others miss. They are survivors of a sort and can add a lot to the discussion from this perch in life.

The prolix will unfortunately always be with us. All they need to start their outflow of words is a single phrase or a short question—usually asked by themselves rhetorically to prime the one-sided conversational pump. Like a good jazzman, they choose a note, put it in the right key and off they go on an endless riff…a riff only they can understand and savor.

Yet if you want someone to sit next to on your flight across the country or a share taxi ride with who will make the time pass enjoyably, then hope for an average person. They are the true masters of the old-fashioned chat!

Above all, stay average!