i'm ready for my close-up, señor algodon

Woody Allen is a genius at character development.

The plots of his films are most often gossamer. But his portrayal of the human condition is always witty -- and bittersweet. Tales of who we think we are. And how the rest of the world sees us.

Jasmine Francis, the eponymous main character in Blue Jasmine, is a perfect example. We meet her on an airplane flying to San Francisco. She is sitting next to an older woman she does not know.

Her opening lines are like any normal small talk on airplanes. "There was no one like Hal. He met me at a party and swept me off my feet. 'Blue Moon' was playing. You know 'Blue Moon?'"

But her chat quickly morphs into a rambling lost-soul monologue that continues as Jasmine follows the woman to the luggage carousel, and ends only when the woman walks away with her family.

When her son asks her who Jasmine was, she answers: "I was sitting next to her on the plane. She was talking to herself. I thought she said something to me. I said, 'What?' But she couldn't stop babbling about her life."

Anyone who has spent much time on airplanes could tell tales of their own travails trapped in a tube with the corresponding secretary of the Logorrhea Society.

I thought of Jasmine this week while reading The Oregonian.

I almost never read personal advice columns.

For a lot of reasons -- primarily, the questions that are asked often have the distinct odor of being composed by a group of office pranksters in the office cafeteria. Or they sound like something you might overhear standing in line at a 7-11. Seldom edifying. Almost always prurient.

Now and then, though, a headline grabs me by my forelock. This one did. "Brother's girl a 'boredom missionary.'"  "Boredom missionary" is a bon mot I have occasionally used myself. So, I had to read the question.

There is no way I can paraphrase the question. The voice is far too personal. Here it is in its full glibness.

My brother wants to know what I think of his girlfriend. I don't like her. It isn't actionable dislike -- she isn't controlling, criminal, or abusive -- but I find her boring and worse, a boredom missionary. No hobbies, doesn't watch any TV shows, thinks fandom for anything is stupid, and doesn't have a team (in any sport) that she supports.

Our plans to do a panic room, see a dumb movie or eat at the weird new fusion place are all "a bit silly." Instead she just wants to do dinner at some place deemed nice and an indie movie about sad people being sad -- fine if that's her thing, but she never seems to enjoy it, or anything. She doesn't even like animals!

I have dodged my brother's question, but he is pushing. The best I can think to say is that she is unobjectionable and has lovely hair (tried to ask about that -- she just washes it, "that is a bit of a silly question"). I can do the old "she makes you happy" dodge, but pretty sure my brother will see through that. Plus, do I owe it to him to point out that she obviously loves him but doesn't share an interest in anything he enjoys and probably won't want to do any of the big-adventure-stuff holidays he has always planned? Or even get the Great Dane he has wanted since our childhood dog died?

On the other hand, he has picked her, maybe a life of gentle boredom is what adult bro is all about? I just don't know. I think if she didn't do this passive roadblock of disapproval about things she considers silly -- like,  all fun stuff -- I could appreciate her other qualities more. As it is, she just exists as this big buzzkill in my head.

-- A Bit Silly 

It really does not matter what the advice columnist had to say. Though, it was nearly as vapid as the question. But it does raise some interesting perspectives on how people deal with the world.

As much as I like Anne Lamott's writing, we do not share the same temperament. Her idea of everything running smoothly on an airplane is that: "A) I not die in a slow motion fiery crash, or get stabbed to death by terrorists, and that B) none of the other passengers try to talk to me."

That is not me. I am one of those people who loves meeting strangers on airplanes. But I am not a Jasmine Francis. When people begin fading, I quickly retreat to The Economist on my telephone.

Both Jasmine and "A Bit Silly" are representatives of a class of people we all encounter. On the surface, they appear to be almost narcissistic -- the rest of the world revolves around their experiences. And that impression is magnified when, like Jasmine's, the conversation has been slicked down with alcohol.

That last element is a common detriment to conversation here on the Mexican Pacific coast. Alcohol flows faster than opinions about cheap tacos.

But, something these days is getting in the way of enjoying rational conversations. And I am not talking solely about politics -- though it is usually the most glaring furnace-feeder. Conversations about restaurants or airlines or even the weather can reduce people to Serbians and Bosnians. If the topic has an element of opinion, the tone soon escalates to ethnic cleansing levels. Whether on message boards or in person.

I suspect narcissism and alcohol are not the causes, though, they are certainly contributing factors.

The problem Jasmine and "A Bit Silly" have is that they are far more interesting in making their point than in listening. And I mean really listening to what the other person said.

I taught a rhetoric class when I lived in Salem in the 1990s. On the first day, I would introduce the concept of persuasion with: "You cannot persuade anyone to do anything unless you actively listen to what they say and respect their point of view."

As an exercise, I would ask people to raise their hands which side of difficult issues they supported. Abortion was usually my first choice. Sometimes, capital punishment.

I then picked a person from each side to sit in front of the class. If a person was pro-life, I asked her to state why she believed in the pro-life position. The listener was then required to state what the first person had said.

No one could do it on the first try in the years I taught the course. No one. Inevitably, the re-statement would be what the listener wished the other person had said. It was inevitably some straw man argument.

When I asked them to try again, occasionally it improved. But, in about 40% of the experiments, the other person could not respect the other person enough to actually simply re-state what the other person said.

I run into that experiment writ large every day here in Mexico. But only with people who are expatriates or tourists. The reason I do not hear it from my Mexican friends is complicated -- and I am not the best person to write about it. Though, that is not enough to stop me from taking a stab at it in the future.

Mexico has been my sole home for ten years now. At least, I am in the tenth year of living here.

Because tourists and expatriates are people, there has always been tension on the message boards and at social events. People have opinions. And they state them. And, sometimes, people get upset that other people actually have differing opinions. I will not bother trotting out that famous Bill Buckley quotation.

Some people believe matters have deteriorated recently. Even though there were Obama-haters during my first eight years here, people think the Trump-hate is of a different degree.

I am not certain. All I know is that it is very difficult to have rational discussions these days about almost any topic. In fact, tables overturned in the temple are not an unusual occurrence.

It does not have to be that way. Here are a few modest proposals. Do with them as you wish. You have nothing to lose but your rage.

1. If we are discussing a serious topic (immigration, religion, whether ground beef can ever be properly folded into a taco) and you want to persuade me with your argument, put down the bottle. Alcohol is great at lowering IQs, but terrible at enhancing logic.

There is a reason participants in presidential debates are provided with water rather than tequila. Though, I must confess the debates over the past twenty years might have improved with a pitcher of margaritas on the podium.

2. Please listen to what the person who is talking with you is actually saying. It is a difficult exercise. While listening, just keep repeating in your head what is being said, rather than trying to come up with a political-commentator-inspired snappy retort.

3. And that is another thing. Use your own logic. And your own words. We have been bombarded with the reductionist ravings of the Rush Limbaughs and Rachel Maddows for so long that we think that is what social intercourse is all about.

I have had several discussions recently where the person I was talking to could only repeat the party line without any personal filtering. In his case, it was the MSNBC propaganda machine. But I have heard the same lack of individual thinking from people who watch Fox.

That is the classic appeal to authority fallacy of rhetoric. If I do not accept the authority of the person you are citing, you are simply treading water. Your personal logic is a far better tool to persuade than relying on academic hacks like Robert Reich and Larry Kurdlow. Accepting the king's coin comes at a price.

4. If you want to talk politics, talk politics. Most political discussions quickly devolve into personality rantings. If the person you are talking with says he agrees with your assessment on a politician's personality, move on. There is nothing to be gained by repeatedly atempting to capture ground you already occupy.

5. Maybe it is just as well to avoid personalities altogether. Politicians have positions on issues. That is what is important. But that often requires facts that are not immediately available. Isn't that why we have conversations? To learn new information. If you want to waste time on whether a politician has a big butt, I suggest spending your energy on the Kim Kardashian site.

6. Take responsibility. Facebook has become the beacon of unthinking posts. Someone sees something a friend has posted, and, without any analysis of what the piece says, will re-post it under their own name. (That behavior is not new. Just think of the number of emails forwarded to you that fall into the "Jehovah's Witnesses will be frightened away from your house if you spray Windex on the front door.")

If someone responds to one of those posts with: "Did you just call me a communist/fascist?," the defensive response is: "Well, I only published it because I thought it was funny. I didn't mean anything by it."

I have a rather tough skin when it comes to politics, but if someone calls my mother a "racist, women-hating bigot," I am going to call them out.

The best answer is to stop publishing all of the hate-filled screeds. They are not just offensive; they have no persuasive power. Most of us learned in kindergarten that tantrums do not get us what we want. Apparently, a lot of people never learned.

If you want to sound like screaming monkeys dipped in turpentine, be my guest. Just don't be offended when exposed.

So, there are six simple suggestions. I have to confess I am chuckling as I write this. I know it will do no good. My advice about listening ("You cannot persuade anyone to do anything unless you actively listen to what they say and respect their point of view.") sounds almost naive. Like Canute willing the tide to obey him.

Maybe no one wants to persuade anyone of anything. If that is true, it is not just sad, it is dangerous.

Earlier this year, our local message board started a thread about the animosity Canadians felt toward Americans because of some of President Trump's comments -- and a subsequent loathing of Canadians by Americans. I asked a Mexican friend who is a waiter what he thought of the controversy.

He smiled and said: "Look. We don't care what you think of each other. You are all the same to us. Walking piggy banks."

He probably has summed up the whole thing better than my long rambling. Honesty usually does that.

In the end, it really may not matter at all. We northerners are a small minority here. And our internal bickering is of no consequence to the Mexicans.

As my friend said: "Knock yourselves out. Just leave your wallets."