My Version of “TMI”

Spend any time around teenagers or college students in recent years and one becomes familiar with their slang expression “TMI” (“Too Much Information”). I think that, in general, it is used to convey to speakers that they are (as Wikipedia informs) divulging “too much personal information” and, as a result, their listeners are made to feel uncomfortable. The expression offers us much potential for other uses, however—especially as we live in an age of information overload. Let me play with that idea a little.

A few days ago I was interviewed by my student assistant, Nick, for one of his class projects. Nick is taking Professor Royster’s class on “love” and as part of his assignments, he had to conduct some interviews on issues of love with real, live people. Once we sat down and Nick explained the project (and, as a good researcher, told me that our conversation would be confidential; he would never use my name or associate it with a particular quote), he then proceed to explain how he had picked his 3 interviewees. This is where TMI (my version) first reared its ugly head.  Nick explained that he had picked 3 women who represented 3 different generations: a college student, a 40 ish woman who represented his mother’s generation and then a woman who represented the grandmother generation. “Ah, ha” said my internal voice, “guess which generation you represent, Professor Slevin?” Yes, indeed, as Nick confirmed, I represented the grandmother generation. Did I really want to hear this? I think not–I’m not a granny yet and I don’t think of myself as representative of grannies! A fast and furious internal conversation with myself ensued–made all the more intense by the fact that my own scholarship is on aging and I know well that most people north of 50 claim to feel younger than their chronological age. The scholar has clay feet—she joins many baby boomers who have a hard time grasping that others—especially younger people—see them for the age they are not the age they would like to be.

Nick proceeded to ask me a series of questions about my dating behaviors as a young person, about sexual activity, about when I first fell in love and so forth. TMI to the fore yet again—but this time poor Nick was the recipient of TMI, I fear. I am quite sure I told him more than he wanted to hear about intimacy—especially from his professor. Additionally, I couldn’t resist critiquing some of the questions and, again, telling him way more than he probably wanted or, indeed, needed to hear about how to construct interview questions.

And so, dear reader, as we come to the close of this particular blog it seems appropriate to ask whether you too are now a victim of TMI. Did you really need to know any of the above? I doubt it. But, then, can’t one argue that the very nature of blogging encourages TMI—no matter how we define it?