Grandpa always used to make me ride in the bed of his pickup truck, so he could keep up his conversations with the 100-pound sack of manure he kept buckled up in the passenger seat....

Wait a minute, I’m thinking, was this another one of those conversations where what is meant and what is being said are not the same thing?

He began to prefer talking on the phone to actually getting together with someone, preferred the bodilessness of it, and started to turn down social engagements. He didn’t want to actually sit across from someone...

a couple of very good conversations.

The most significant conversations of our lives occur in silence.