unknown. Good hosts
use questions to have fun, make people laugh, or dive into
the ridiculous.
Not long ago, my sister Julie and I were in California, visiting our father and
stepmother, Alice. At nearly ninety, Dad still went to his office every day and to
the gym twice a week. He looked great and remained eager to enjoy life. Over
appetizers, Alice suggested a game my father loved. He’d ask “rating” questions
like:
On a scale of one to ten, how important is it to be rich?
What are three qualities you want in a friend?
What are three fun things that matter to you?
Alice told us that she’d asked Dad that last question to figure out what to buy
him for Father’s Day. His answer: money, clothes and … sex. For a moment we
didn’t quite know what to say. Talking sex with my 90 year-old father was not
exactly on my bucket list. Alice, always able to regale a room, leapt on the
moment and told us that my father’s answers gave her all the gift inspiration she
needed. She bought him an expensive shirt and fine chocolates. The designer
label shirt covered her on money and clothes. The Godiva chocolate conjured up
sex. Lady Godiva
rode naked through the streets, after all. We howled at Alice’s
literary license, recognizing that with age comes freedom to say—and buy—
whatever you want.
Then she turned to us and said, “Okay, what three things matter to
you?”
Suddenly we headed in new directions as we listed favorite pastimes and hobbies
—long walks in the woods, time on the water, and thoroughly dutiful activities
like making a difference and helping others.
Godiva chocolates and sex didn’t come up again, fortunately. But having that
conversation around Dad’s table,
in his home of forty years, has become one of
those postcard moments, when we shared a laugh and creative memories
triggered by a silly question.
A Host of Questions
Whether it’s Seinfeld or Socrates joining you for dinner, you can produce an
experience your guests will enjoy and remember. They’ll relish the discussion as
they savor the food. Your hosting,
like the meal, takes some preparation. But it’s
manageable if you tackle the recipe one step at a time.
Start with the most important ingredient, the people. The friends, family,
colleagues, students, acquaintances in the group may know one another or they
may be strangers, so you should find out whether there are common threads and
interests. When I interview, I start by asking: Who is my audience? What do
they know? What don’t they know? What do they care about? What will they
find interesting and funny and why? The more I
understand the people in the
room, the better I can steer the discussion.
Ask questions, don’t answer them. Good hosts participate in the conversation, of
course. But they are principally interested in drawing out the others. Their
objective is to direct the conversation not dominate it. Pay attention to who’s
talking and who’s not. Direct the questions so everyone gets a chance to talk.
But also recognize that some people prefer to listen, so tune in to the signals and
listen closely to detect reluctance. Be respectful of the differences.
Mix it up. You can feast on serious topics or small dishes from the lighter side.
You can visit a place around the corner or around the world. A good talk-show
host alternates topics and moods to keep the conversation moving, varied, and
interesting.
Keep watch for the land mines.
In my interviews, I go looking for land mines. I
like to engage debate head-on. That’s my job as a journalist. But interviewing
has also taught me that good hosts go looking for buried treasure, too. That’s
how I discover villages in India and my father’s fondest things. But be mindful
of topics that at times are best avoided. Politics, religion, and money will inspire
some but turn into disasters with others. Know the difference and navigate
deliberately.
Go for meaning. Be careful here or you’ll be viewed
as the humorless professor
rather than the cool questioner. You can take just about any topic and look
deeper without making it sound heavy or feel like work. Talking baseball? Sure,
the standings matter, but on another level, how can this game possibly survive as
the national pastime when it takes three hours to play nine innings and the next
generation of fans has attention spans that are suited for text messages and six-
second videos?
We never invoked Socrates at that dinner party at Chris Schroeder’s place.