The Art of Introductions

Dear friend,

Allow me to introduce myself, I am a man of taste, if not wealth. My name is Nick, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, though perhaps you won’t feel as if you’ve met me quite yet, know that I’ve met you. That’s right, because as you read these words that are so silently, insidiously slipping into your brain, I’m there too. Introductions are much easier when you’re already in somebody’s head, wouldn’t you agree?

Still, in case you weren’t born with Professor X’s rather marvelous mutation or studied fervently over bent spoons, we can discuss the more commonplace modes of introduction. I feel that’s an appropriate topic for this first of blog posts, don’t you? Seeing that you do, or you wouldn’t have continued to give voice to these words (I wonder whose voice you’re hearing now in that beautiful brain of yours, is it mine or does the voice inside your head have its own sound?), we shall strive onwards!

I must admit that this is the most thought I’ve given to an introduction in quite some time. It’s a rather intriguing art to consider though, wouldn’t you agree? We introduce ourselves in so many different ways to so many different people, and even this diversity expands exponentially if you want to factor in all the methods of introduction that have been employed throughout the ages of the human condition (not to leave out other animals, as butt-sniffing is a perfectly respectable canine introduction). The formality one might find in Pride & Prejudice presents a stark contrast to the “hey” and “sup” you’d punch into your phone or find waiting for you after a shower.

This is not to disparage new forms of communication, I rely on texting and Facebook chatting to get things done as much as I imagine most do. However, what are the ramifications of replacing courtly gestures and mannerisms with blind Facebook friend requests sent desperately out into the darkness of the internet? Introductions these days seem all too fleeting, as greetings become shorter and more dismissive. “How are you,” is no longer a question, but an excuse to walk by someone or continue ordering your meal through the speakers at a drive-thru. Is the art of introduction lost, or merely changing? Perhaps there is something to be said for conciseness (brevity being the soul of wit, after all), but is it possible that a “hey” can be jam-packed with as much meaning as a bow or curtsey? I’d argue very much yes, because not all “sup’s” were texted equal. A “hi : )” from that cutie you met at the bar or a “yo” from a best bro can mean entirely different things. Who you’re texting and why, whether you throw in an “lol” or “: )” can change the entire tone of a internet conversation’s dreaded tonelessness.

Perhaps you feel that you still don’t know me, but I believe in showing rather than telling and by now you’ve had my voice in your head for quite some time. I really can’t think of a better introduction than that, so having met you, now I shall leave you. Until next time, fare thee well.