Showing posts with label Public Speaking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Public Speaking. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 8, 2024

Quote of the Day (Douglas Coupland, on College Teaching as a Nerve-Racking Form of Public Speaking)

“One form of public speaking not usually recognized as such is teaching. I’ve had a few experiences in educational situations and they’ve been worse than flies crawling over my face. I don’t know if it’s me or what, but having to speak to college students is like having to address a crowd of work-shirking entitlement robots whose only passion, aside from making excuses as to why they didn’t do their assignments, is lying in wait, ready to pounce upon the tiniest of PC infractions. You can’t pay teachers enough to do what they do. Having been in their shoes, even briefly, has converted me into an education advocate. Double all teaching salaries now.”— Canadian novelist, designer, and visual artist Douglas Coupland, “Observations: Getting Off the Stage,” originally printed in The Financial Times, Dec. 5-6, 2015, reprinted in Bit Rot: Bit Rot: Stories + Essays (2017)

The image of Douglas Coupland that accompanies this post was taken Mar. 17, 2022, in Haida Gwaii, British Columbia, by the Wylie Agency of New York City.

Monday, July 16, 2018

Quote of the Day (Joe Queenan, on His Toughest Listener)


“The last time I spoke in public, at a bookstore in Connecticut, I spent the whole time trying to make the sullen woman sitting in the back row laugh. Just once. Just a titter. Just a halfhearted chuckle. Forget about eliciting a guffaw. A wisp of a smile would do. I used my best material. I went into overdrive. I swung for the fences. I reached back for the old fastball and let ‘er rip.

“But my wife never laughed once.”—Humorist Joe Queenan, “Speak No Evil,” The Wall Street Journal, June 14-15, 2014

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Quote of the Day (Andy Rooney, on “The Strange Thing About Speaking”)

“The strange thing about speaking is that you only know for sure that you've made a point with an audience when you say something funny and they laugh. If you make what you hope is a good, serious point, there's no way for them to let you know.”—Pieces of My Mind, by Andy Rooney (1987)

Somehow, his listening audience found enough in Andy Rooney’s  short, on-air essays to want the longtime 60 Minutes mainstay around for more than three decades. It might have taken longer than the instant response the network curmudgeon craved, but eventually they certainly did let him know what they thought.
It’s hard to believe that, after so much time, the 92-year-old journalist has stepped down from his regular perch. He strikes me as the type who values short, unsentimental expression, so here it is: Thanks for the years of laughter, Andy.