The Sound of Silence : Normally talkative Clinton is now mostly mum . . . but for just how long?

The nation first became aware of Bill Clinton’s fondness for talking--and talking, and talking--the night he gave a seemingly interminable nominating speech for Michael S. Dukakis at the 1988 Democratic Convention. Clinton’s biggest applause line came when he said “ . . . and in conclusion.”

Familiarity with Clinton’s readiness to share his thoughts on just about anything has of course grown enormously during his presidency. Along with virtually every other politician, Clinton relishes exposure, whether at formally called news conferences, during brief photo sessions with visiting dignitaries, while jogging, while shopping, while strolling around or on MTV. His operating idea has pretty clearly been that while he’s being seen there’s no reason he shouldn’t be heard as well.

Journalists welcome this chattiness; it often makes for catchy sound bites, if not necessarily for hard news. But the President’s political advisers, recognizing that loquacity is not synonymous with communication and that over-exposure can invite boredom, have been worrying increasingly about Clinton’s talking too much about too many different things too many times during a day.

When Leon E. Panetta became White House chief of staff he made it an early item of business to raise this issue. His advice to his boss seems to have been based on that classic Ring Lardner line: “ ‘Shut up,’ he explained.”

Clinton, say people who monitor these things, has in fact curbed his volubility, resisting manifold opportunities and, no doubt, temptations to think aloud and talk off the top of his head. How long this restraint will last has become a subject of much speculation in Washington.

Of course, even under maximum self-restraint it’s impossible that Clinton will ever be confused with his legendarily close-lipped predecessor, Calvin Coolidge, who used words as if each one cost him money. Once at a dinner party, so the story goes, a woman seated next to Coolidge said, “Mr. President, I bet my husband that I could get you to say three consecutive words.”

“You lose,” said Silent Cal.