Let me take a moment to convince you

I was recently reminiscing with a co-worker about a long departed library page who used to talk to people, and talk, and talk, and not get the signals, the many many signals, that the person being talked to needed, wanted, to go. No doubt the last time I talked to this person I just had to give up on any civil ending. So instead I slowly started walking backwards away from her, nodding and saying "Uh huh" until I was so far away from her that I could no longer hear her. Nine years later I am sure that she is continuing her discourse in my direction, unclear that I am too far away to know.

Pregnant in this reminiscing conversation with my affable co-worker was the fact that we both have this tendency to talk through the signals sometimes. We see the look in the person's eye, but we're going downhill and we just can't find the brakes so we hang on, hoping against hope to get our story out, or make our point, barreling down the mountain as fast as we can, desperately hoping to reach the bottom soon. 

Well, let me tell you, it's never quite as soon as one thinks. 

And let me add this for good measure: The older I get the more I recognize the futility of convincing anyone of anything.

And the more I am convinced of the futility of convincing anyone of anything the harder I want to try.