ONE PERSON'S TRASH TALK IS ANOTHER'S PLEASURE

"If you can't say anything nice about somebody, come sit by me."

When Olympia Dukakis uttered that line in "Steel Magnolias," she spoke for everyone who's ever indulged in the illicit thrill of dishing.

Who doesn't listen to gossip?

For some reason it's delightfully wicked to hear trash talk about somebody else. And the more sordid the details, the faster it will get repeated.

A neighbor's nasty divorce might make juicy fodder for the Labor Day cookout, but if an affair was involved, people will still be talking about on New Year's Eve.

Companies struggle to communicate their corporate goals, but if someone overhears a screaming match between two VPs, it will be repeated verbatim at every meeting for years to come. The full text of the fight probably will show up on e-mail faster than you can click "send/receive all."

And while I may not be able get anybody to return my calls when I'm looking for church volunteers, if I left a message saying, "You are not going to believe what I just found out the minister and his wife," my phone would start ringing off the hook.

We might not want to inflict emotional drama on others, but we sure want to hear about it.

The word gossip comes from the Old English "godsibb," meaning "god sibling," which referred to the four godparents who were present at the baptism of a child. Godsibbas periodically got together to talk about the welfare and spiritual progress of the child, and the term "godsib" came to mean "talk among equals."

By 1362, one's "gossips," used as a noun, were a woman's female friends invited to be present at a baptism. Eventually the verb form came to mean "easy unrestrained talk or writing about persons or social events."

I suspect that discussing a child's spiritual development wasn't nearly as captivating to the pub crowd as chatting about how much grog the out-of-town relatives were chugging before the ceremony even began.

They might not have had an official word for it way back when, but people have been talking trash about each other ever since the neighbors passed time during the big rainstorm by making fun of that goofy guy Noah for stockpiling all that lumber down by the lake.

Whether it's the court jesters whispering to each other about the gluttonous, skirt-chasing antics of King Henry the VIII or today's adult-conversation-starved moms who stay late to catch the gossip after PTA - everybody wants the inside scoop.

We're often so enthralled by the antics of others that we'll purposely pick the slow line at the grocery store just we'll have time to scan the tabloids.

I used to try to pass myself off as a faux intellectual and spiritual seeker, but when I began asking my hairdresser for 15 minutes more under the dryer just so I can find out how many plastic surgeries Cher has had, I knew the jig was up. I was just as addicted to the juicy morsels as everybody else.

Now after years of secretly pimping People Magazine at the salon, I've "outed" myself and my subscription hits my mailbox every Friday afternoon. Can I really be expected to work when there's vital information about Brad and Jen sitting on my desk?

I'm not alone in my reading habits - four of the top 10 U.S. magazines (by revenue) are tabloids: People, National Enquirer, Star Magazine and US Weekly.

My neighbor says she likes to read about celebrity gossip so she can feel informed. I often try to rationalize my own listening to personal gossip with the excuse that if I know what's going on with people, I will be able to offer better support.

We can justify our actions all we like, but the moment when we get the down-and-dirty is nothing but wicked pleasure. It makes us feel both superior and in-the-know.

Gossip appeals to our inner voyeurs. And when it's really juicy, it provides a welcome diversion from the mundane matters of our own existence.

But if suddenly we all started leading wildly exciting, emotionally fulfilling lives, would the National Enquirer go down the tubes?

I doubt it. We are wired to want to know other people's business. Judging the actions of others is often how we establish our own moral compasses. And let's be honest here - going around repeating only nice stuff is kind of boring.

Maybe if we all felt loved and adored for who we are, we could turn a deaf ear when somebody broadcasts the nasty news about somebody else.

But until then, perhaps we can just not take pleasure in it. If you want to dish the dirt in a nice way, I think I can make some space on the sofa - right beside me.