In October, we started a monthly Noodle Talk group at an assisted-living facility here in central New Jersey. Noodle Talk is a lightly structured discussion based on questions that explore the human condition as a rich mosaic of personal story. We developed it years ago and think it’s arguably the “best excuse to sit around and schmooze since grunting gave way to grammar.” That’s one of the reasons we were excited about bringing it to a group of seniors.

Some customers tell us that when first introducing Noodle Talk, they go through the questions beforehand to weed out the “more difficult ones.” I never do that, but as the first few questions were picked, I began to wonder if I had made a mistake: every one was the serious kind that might easily send newcomers running. And if that wasn’t bad enough, an overly zealous prosecutor might interpret some as prima facie evidence of elder abuse (e.g., What feeling or thought would you like to accompany your final breath?).

In the end though, I didn’t need to call a lawyer. Nor was my inner cringing warranted. This group of senior citizens was absolutely fearless in responding to the questions. (Noodle Talk’s guidelines recommend reading the question silently to yourself and picking another if you don’t feel comfortable answering it. This way, no one knows what question you’re returning to the set unanswered.)

Often, their responses were deeply moving. One woman told about cheating on a class exam when she was 12 years old. Immediately afterwards, she was filled with remorse and confessed. Later, she became the teacher’s pet. Another woman spoke with pride about mastering the steep learning curve involved in taking over her husband’s business following his death.

Most touching for me though was the beautiful answer a 94 year-old man gave to the question about a final dying thought or feeling. He hoped he would recall how fortunate he was to have had the life he did — including his wonderful wife, children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. (Last month, we learned that his marriage was still going strong after 74 years.)

Another man expressed a similar sentiment in response to another “difficult” question:

If, before being born, you were required to write a brief essay explaining your interest in taking human form, what would you have written?

He started out by saying he didn’t want to be a cockroach or a fly around a toilet. What he would look forward to “was smelling all the good things, having all the good thoughts, meeting the right girl, and having a great momma and poppa.”

Question: Assuming it were possible, what substance do you think would make a terrific substitute for blood?

Answer: Martinis

In leading Noodle Talk groups, I usually insist that we stick to authentic experience and not get lost in intellectual discussion or opinion. With a group that’s exclusively older seniors however, I let that restriction fall away. It adds a more familiar and comfortable element to the mix, and enriches the time we spend together. At our second meeting in November, the question, What is your favorite form of public transportation?, prompted some to share how hard it was to give up driving, and others to reflect on the trade-off between feeling safe and secure in the facility vs. having the world around them grow smaller and smaller. When have you felt most feminine? Masculine? became the catalyst for an extended conversation about sexual stereotyping.

Other conversational tangents: how to get inspired and motivated again, and how to get more out of daily programs.

A man, whose wife was living in a nearby nursing home for Alzheimer’s patients, talked about his year-long recovery from a stroke. “I never thought I’d end up here in assisted living,” he said. “It’s been tough. I’m trying to get better but I’m still not there.” Others responded by complimenting him on the progress he had made, and saying how much they admired and liked him. It was a genuine and spontaneous expression of support. Later, this same man, in answering another Noodle Talk question, named Woody Allen and Larry David as two artists he would commission to create a work based on his life.

Near the end, we shared stories about some really dumb things we had done as children. One woman admitted for the first time ever that she once threw something at dinner guests from behind a pantry door. She was returning to her room after being banished from the table for being fresh. When asked why this never came up at weekly confession in her youth, she laughed and said she didn’t think she had done anything wrong.

Funny how Noodle Talk works sometimes.

Now don’t get us wrong. We happen to think that the competition has a decent-enough product: nice graphics, impressive retail distribution, and questions that aren’t half-bad. (Sometimes, we can’t help wondering whether Noodle Talk, which has been on and off the market since 1993, has been ripped off or plagiarized, but that’s another story altogether.) Nevertheless, in our totally unbiased judgement, Noodle Talk questions are more entertaining, imaginative, provocative, and quirkier than theirs. It’s also a much better bargain: customers get far more questions while paying less, even though Noodle Talk is printed and assembled in the U.S. of A., not overseas.

Another difference is that our sets have no themes or subjects to differentiate them from each other. While we understand that this is done mostly because distributors demand a constant flow of new products, we think it’s kind of presumptuous to limit conversations to just one or two topics depending on social circumstances. Besides, not knowing what subject will pop up next in a Noodle Talk is part of the fun.

But we digress. Back to the show and Ellen’s apparent introduction to party conversation starters. Jennifer presented it as something you pull out whenever you’re stuck with a boring or dull visitor. We don’t know how our competitor feels about this but we at Noodle Talk beg to differ: products like ours, we contend, are for the “interesting” people in our lives, i.e., those who by virtue of breathing, thinking, and feeling have a treasure trove of experience worth sharing. The problem with most social discourse is that it remains on the level of opinion, gossip, blather, well-worn scripts, and narcissistic posturing — not to mention the difficulty of getting a word in edgewise with some individuals. It’s hardly a way to discover something new, admirable, or memorable about a person, or to renew one’s appreciation for the human condition. Not so with Noodle Talk Premium Conversation Stirrers!

It was also kind of ass backwards to have Jennifer, playing the bore, answering sample questions posed by Ellen. That’s not how it’s done in Noodle Talk: each person drawing a question reads it silently first and answers only if comfortable doing so. No one loses points, gets penalized, or has to feel guilty if they go searching for alternative prompts. This isn’t “Truth or Dare.” The whole idea is to create a safe space — some call it “sacred” space — for individuals to speak their authentic truth. Sometimes their stories evoke laughter, other times, tears: in the telling, we reveal our most lovable selves.

So what did Ellen actually ask Ms. Dull? “Where are you most ticklish?” was the first question. Cute, but one that our guest starlet wasn’t about to answer, in or out of character. Second question: “Name all six Kardashians.” Was this something Ellen made up on the spot or legit? Hard to tell. Sounds more like Trivial Pursuit to us.

The third question, “Which of your personality traits would you most like to change?” strikes us as one of the more interesting ones. But once the personality-impaired guest (played by Ms. Aniston) answered, “My social skills,” our hostess had had enough and was ready to move on. The whole thing took about a minute and 45 seconds. Maybe it boosted our competitor’s sales, but much was missing: namely, the deep rapport that spontaneously arises when openness, curiosity, and attentive listening — riffing off creative cues — are given a chance to cut loose.

Don’t take our word for it though. Buy a set of Noodle Talk and see for yourself. As our guarantee states: If using this product does not significantly enrich your relationships, or provide immediate relief from acute distress caused by social tedium, we give up!

The answers ranged from the surprisingly mundane to expansive and poetic, and nearly all came with a warning:

It’s like a sponge full of holes that soaks up but also leaks.

It’s a rag that wipes things away.

It’s like a fire that keeps you warm but will burn you too.

It’s a brilliant, blinding light that’s brighter than the sun.

It’s like being on top of a mountain with a 360° unlimited view that overwhelms you. You don’t control it; it controls you. You do things that are stupid because you love that person even if they don’t love you as much.

As for metaphorical places, one participant likened it to paradise (specifically, Paris with its Eiffel Tower) while another saw a close resemblance to Camden (nice but rough).

Can love really hurt? That was a question discussed at length. One person felt strongly that love is love — a pure emanation from the heart that is wholly benevolent; whatever pain may be associated with it comes from a need or desire, not from the loving itself. It was definitely a minority view.

The same young man answered the question, “After years of futility, what have you finally given up trying to understand or do?” by saying that communication with his child’s mother had gotten so bad, he no longer even attempts to work things out with her.

“What advice would you give an extra-terrestrial being visiting Earth for the first time?” The answers, unfortunately, were not those of tourism boosters:

Turn around.

Keep moving.

Be sure to put an alarm on your spaceship.

“When was the last time you said, ‘Never again’? What’s happened since?” evoked an incident in which the storyteller became drunk, and was physically abusive to his partner. “It took me so out of character I decided not to drink again,” he said. In the six years since, he hasn’t touched a drop of liquor.

This is one of the reasons we do Noodle Talk.

T. though wanted to be on the wall of Osama bin Laden’s cave where he could overhear any plans and report back to American authorities. We’re not familiar with T.’s personal situation but suspect that as a soup kitchen regular, he has a lot more immediate things on his mind (e.g., paying bills, landing a job perhaps, etc.) than protecting our large cities from terrorist attack. Yet here he was, showing more concern for his country’s well-being than our government shows for his.

Our previous entry dated December 17 referenced responses we had recently heard to the question, “How did you first learn about human reproduction or responsible sexual behavior? (Or have you yet?)” Those answers, which came at December’s TASK session, were another big surprise — at least if you happen to believe that all African-American males are genetically gifted as macho studs from birth. L. reported that he learned the facts of life as an 8 or 9 year-old. While “playing with himself” in the bathroom, a milk-like substance came shooting out and scared him. He ran to his mother who explained that it was “puppy water” and that’s how babies were made. D. told of losing his virginity at the age of 12 to a woman twice his age. “I had no idea what was happening and man was I frightened,” he told us.

Not exactly the stuff one hears about in rap music and hip-hop culture — and an especially good reason to admire the inner strength and openness of both these men.

Speaking of human sexuality . . .
Question: When did you last see one or both of your parents naked? The first time? What was the experience like on each occasion?
S.: When I was a 17-year-old. I felt like throwing up.

Drugs, incarceration, unplanned pregnancies, waylaid plans, and gang violence are all frequent themes in Noodle Talks at TASK, but more often than not the context is quite touching or even humorous. One grown son spoke about the year he was 7 and his mother 25 as the best time of their lives. C. described feeling abandoned as an addict. Greed was how N. got into selling drugs. Prison was something that S. left and never looked back on. K. felt bad for his mother who lost a basketball scholarship due to pregnancy. “What were you drinking?” is the question that D. would ask someone who had just awakened from a nap of 50 years.

In October, we were blessed by the presence of L., a 93-year-old woman with the sweetest smile. We don’t know why but it’s not uncommon in a Noodle Talk group for the oldest person — and by oldest, we mean 90+ — to draw the question, “Please describe an early romance and what became of that particular sweetheart.” L. replied that she ditched a 14 year-old for another boy who eventually became her husband. Later, we learned that she walks 3 miles to TASK several times a week to help out.

“If God sent home a report card for you, what comments would accompany your grades?” inspired M. to talk about her estrangement from a brother who faulted her for befriending blacks. God’s comment? “The heart is both an asset and a curse; people mistake kindness for weakness.”

We’ll end with a seasonal question that elicited lots of interest at the start of December’s gathering: “Psychologically speaking, and using common driving habits as a metaphor, how are you approaching 2011 (e.g., Speeding up? Slowing down? Going in reverse? Switching lanes? Idling until the light turns green? Stuck on the shoulder with a flat or overheated radiator?)” One woman said she’d be taking the bus because that was a way to slow down. Several others spoke about driving more cautiously, learning from mistakes, and being sure to get on the right road. Another woman planned on taking her car in for a tune up to remove the dirt in its engine. And a young man dreamed of driving off into distant mountains to escape everyone around him.

So — what’s it like for you as the light ahead is about to change colors?

Question: If you were to become the patron saint of something based on your natural aptitudes or personality, who or what would be the most likely beneficiaries?
Answer: Soil micro-organisms. (The respondent was an organic farmer selling fruits and vegetables at a nearby table.)

Question: What’s the biggest bargain you ever found?
Middle-aged woman: My husband.

The only Noodle Talk question that deals with sex — overtly at any rate –  is: “How did you first learn about human reproduction or responsible sexual behavior? (Or have you yet?)” After I told a retired Princeton University biology professor who specialized in embryology about some recent answers I had heard, he shared this amusing anecdote: Many years ago, one of his four daughters came home from school, bursting with pride that she had figured something out. When her father asked what it was, she said: “You and mommy had sex four times.” Speaking to me, the professor grinned and added: “Funny, I could only remember three.”

Question: Being as imaginative as you like, and regardless of personal or practical limitations, what would you like to accomplish that has never been done before?
Seven-year-old boy: Build a train by myself.

A young girl was initially stumped by the question: “What are the first questions you would ask a friendly visitor from another planet?” I tried to help by saying: “Pretend you’ve just met me, and I’m all green and have a big nose coming out the top of my head, and bulging eyes that are as big as soccer balls. What would you be tempted to ask?” Very shyly, she replied: “What’s your name?”

Finally, a thought from a fan who points to something at the heart of Noodle Talk: “You can tell a lot about a person by the way they listen.”

Ain’t that the truth.

Much of what separates Noodle Talk from ordinary talk can be found in this guideline:

Honesty, support, and listening with an open mind are highly recommended. Anyone caught criticizing, intellectualizing, psycho-analyzing, interrupting, one-upping, digressing, pontificating, belching, or passing gas loudly should be sent to bed immediately.

Released from the burden of saying something intelligent, humorous, or sensitive whenever there’s a pause in the conversation is actually quite liberating. The spotlight turns away from us and focuses on the speaker. We become free to simply listen and take in what’s being said, sometimes for the first time ever! Discourse is no longer the “running about” that its etymology suggests, but a way to relax by the side of the road and enjoy the view.

Perhaps we should call Noodle Talk “Noodle Ears” instead.

We’ve always felt that Noodle Talk was superior to ordinary talk because it never puts people to sleep. Now that we’ve been proven wrong, however, we’re delighted to acknowledge our mistake.

(Click on image to enlarge)

How many of us could/would make the choice that Mrs. McKinney’s husband did?

Btw, if you don’t already know about www.thehungersite.com and its sister causes (Breast Cancer, Child Health, Literacy, Rainforest Preservation, and Animal Rescue) we highly recommend a daily visit. Except for smiling, there’s no easier way to help make the world a better place.

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