On the art of small talk, bottle-cap lasagna, and why I’ll stick to haiku.

You’re Probably Doing Small Talk Wrong was the headline for a guest essay in the New York Times this week. Maya Rossignac-Milon and Erica Boothby dissect the art of small talk, particularly those first few minutes when you meet someone new, be it on the job, at a cocktail party, or on a pickleball court.

The authors, both behavioural scientists, argue that our meet-and-greets often fall flat when they consist of exchanging standard formalities, such as “How are you?” and “How was your weekend?” or (in Chicago) “Da Bears.” If we want to create bonds with the people we are meeting, Rossignac-Milon and Boothby maintain that riffing is the way to go.

I had heard of riffing in music, but never in terms of conversation. The article doesn’t define the process, but my browser’s AI describes it as “the spontaneous exchange of comments, in a playful manner, where participants build on each other’s thoughts.” That’s a mouthful, but the Times article gives the following example:

“How was your weekend?” “Good, but I spent way too much time watching people make tiny food on TikTok.” “Whoa, like … dollhouse-size?” “Yes! If you want to learn to make a lasagna in a bottle cap, let me know.”

I have never had a conversation even remotely approximating that one. I don’t think I am capable of it. For me, conversations rarely veer into bottle-cap lasagna territory. In fact, they usually stall out right around ‘Where are you from?’

Give me time to prepare, and I’m fine — my remarks to the Lake County Finance Board about mosquito control even earned a mention in the Tribune. I can write blog posts, plays, even haiku.

But riffing? Not so much. I’ve never been fond of miniature food, anyway.