I donât like talking to people. Which is a strange thing for a talk-show host to say, but itâs true.
The thing is, I donât like talking to people in person. Voices on the line are⌠different. They canât see me. I canât see them. It doesnât make me anxious the way face-to-face does. So Iâve been working the midnight regret-line for years, and rarely interact with anyone outside it, which makes me happy. People sometimes call just to get things off their chest, and it helps them if I listen. Most of them, though, want advice on how to handle their regret.
The secret to giving good advice is pretty simple, and I worked it out early on. There are three keys to it. I have two staple pieces of advice, which I re-dress in language appropriate to each situation. The first one is âthe only actions you can control are your ownâ. Whether Iâm explaining that you canât stop someone from divorcing you, why your kid hates you now, or why you canât love someone into getting over an addiction, it all comes down to the same thing. You canât control other people. Your responsibility is for your own actions and choices.
The second one is for problem solving. Apply the scientific method, basically â thatâs the best way I know to solve problems, anyway. Most people donât know it, so I explain it in terms they can understand, and coach them through a couple of applications.
The third thing is to just listen. Really listen. People want to be heard, and Iâm good at that. Itâs why Iâm good at weeding out the fakes, and why people usually end the call feeling better.
Some nights are quiet, and I play music, or talk. I tell them, often, that anyone can call. Itâs okay if itâs not something big, or if it is. If itâs criminal, the recording will be passed on to the relevant authorities, but we wonât do more than that. Sometimes kids call, or old people. Most people donât listen to them, but I do. I like to think I make them feel safe.
This one night started like any other. I talked an old woman through rebuilding her relationship with her daughter, and a young man through a bad breakup. Then nobody called for a while, so I played some Vivaldi. ThenâŚ
Then the voice came on the line. A deep and very beautiful voice⌠it was like talking to Idris Elba or Christopher Lee, but with a hint of melodious accent that I couldnât place. âI suppose,â it said, and it sounded so sad my throat tightened in sympathy, âthat my greatest regret is the breach with my father. I was⌠disowned. Cast out. I never meant for it to go that far. I didnât want to never see him again.â