Letters to the Editor
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Long story short
Once upon a time (just a few years ago) a psychlogist took a number of plane trips. During those trips he engaged his seatmates in conversation by asking them, warmly and sincerely, all about them. Every time a personal fact was offered, he delved deeper into the minutae that makes us all so fascinating. He never once proffered his own personal information of any kind. At the end of each flight, a co-conspirator, if you will, interviewed each of the subjects. Every one was effusive in their praise of what a genuinely wonderful person his new friend was. Warm and kind and sensitive, fascinating and funny and all the other things we "try" to be. But, aside from his first name, they knew absolutely nothing personal about him. Questions asked covered the spectrum of social imteraction: What was his last name? Where was he from? What did he "do"? Any distinguishing characteristics at all? All were answered with variations of "Gee, I don't really know." All anyone remembered about him was that they believed they had made a friend. Okay now?