Life and the art of palavering

On a Monday morning, in the spring of last year, some friends wanted to know if I had lunch plans.

I was curious what they wanted to talk about. Over a plate of free-range chicken and cage-free cornbread, they invited me to the monthly meeting of their Palaver Club.

“Do what?’’ I asked.

I wasn’t sure the seven-letter word P-A-L-A-V-E-R had ever been downloaded in the dictionary between my ears. If it had ever been on a vocabulary test, I probably missed it.

OK, I Googled it. It means a “prolonged and idle discussion” and to “talk unnecessarily at length.’’ The World Book dictionary I have used since I was young enough to look up words defines “palaver” as “smooth, persuading talk.’’ When used as a verb, it means “to talk fluently or flatteringly, especially so as to persuade or cajole.’’

I met — and probably exceeded — those qualifications. I might not be a certified “palaverer,’’ but the gift of gab runs through my family tree. If bending ears was a competitive sport, I could be an Olympian.

After all, I have served on various panels and taken part in round-table discussions. In college, I participated in debates in my political science classes and attended meetings of the Demosthenian Literary Society.

I have been palavering most of my life. I just didn’t know it. I have palavered on porch swings, in parking lots, church pews and in the produce department at the grocery store.

I attended my first official Palaver (Southern pronunciation: “pah-luh-vuh”) meeting the following week. I eventually became a member of this club where “the only rule is that there are no rules.’’ There are no by-laws, no officers and no dues.

Every month — except for June and August — a dozen men gather for cocktails and dinner at Idle Hour. We usually meet for a couple of hours, but they are hardly idle.

Different backgrounds are represented. There are doctors, lawyers, judges, educators, journalists, rabbis and financial planners. We come from different hometowns, graduated from different colleges and attend different churches.

Our common denominator is that we pride ourselves in being lifelong learners. We are curious about almost any subject.

And we are gentlemen. We are polite and well-mannered. We wear coats and ties to every meeting. If anyone neglects the dress code, the punishment is having to wear a tuxedo to the annual Christmas party.

Every month, someone is designated to host the gathering. (And pick up the tab.) Another is assigned to present a paper he has written on any topic he chooses. A printed copy of the paper is given to each member, seated at a round table, and we follow along as he reads. At the end, we ask questions and have a spirited discussion.

There is an unwritten rule.

We respect each other’s opinions and diverse views. We do not argue, point fingers, raise voices or sling mud. There is never a war of words with heavy artillery.

There is civility, something sadly lacking in these divisive times we live in.

We’re talking history

There are three Palaver Clubs in Macon, with a history dating back to the 1920s. The club I was invited to join is the second-oldest, established in 1935.

The origin of Palaver Clubs can be traced to the “Junto Club,’’ sometimes known as the “Leather Apron,” started by Benjamin Franklin in Philadelphia in the 1700s.

Members of Franklin’s group were described as “working men, bright, lovers of books and witty. Or, if not witty, then solid and sensible.’’ They met at a local tavern on Friday nights to “mix moderate drinking with heavy thinking.’’

There is a literary reference to the word “palaver” in Mark Twain’s “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,’’ a book often regarded as the greatest American novel. In Chapter 7, Huck’s father, Pap, tells him: “Don’t stand there palavering all day.’’

To mark the club’s 75th anniversary, an impressive, 768-page book, “The Palaver Papers,” was published in 2010. It included many of the papers of members, including those of such legends as Frank Jones, Albert Reichert Sr. and Judge Gus Bootle. The subjects ranged from churches to Churchill, gardening, scuba diving, Lincoln, smallpox and the Electoral College.

In the 19 months I have been a member, I have heard presentations on everything from Buddy Holly to health care to Brexit to the history of wooden pencil and an appreciation of the role of mules in our society.

Yes, mules. We don’t shoot the bull when we talk about mules.

I presented my first paper in September 2015 on the future of newspapers. I am scheduled to deliver another paper next month. I’m not going to reveal what it is about, but I started thinking about my topic as soon as I finished the last one almost 14 months ago.

There are plans to publish another book. It won’t be 768 pages, but it should be an equally impressive collection. It will be an honor to have my papers included.

It is a challenge to be in the company of intelligent men with open minds.

We don’t really palaver.

We listen and learn.

This story was originally published October 21, 2016 at 5:43 PM with the headline "Life and the art of palavering."