I have long lamented the loss of standards in the society in which we live today. I am one of the few who thinks that jeans and T-shirts are not appropriate choices for every occasion, I believe that when you receive an invitation you should respond to it quickly, and I have long wished to be able to wear hats and gloves with my suits and match my shoes to my handbags; I wish I could dress for dinner in sparkly things. I do admit to having a love hate relationship with men opening doors or pulling out chairs for ladies-I think the gestures are charming and lovely but as a fiercely independent woman, do I really need it? I have never told any of the men of my acquaintance not to and most of them offer those gestures and as I write this I realize that it makes me feel cherished to have those small services performed for me. They know I can do it myself but it is infinitely more graceful for them to open the door for me. I always say thank you because I am genuinely grateful to be treated so beautifully.
On Saturday I thought a lot about the difference between manners and standards. Are there differences? I think I have come to grasp that manners for me are part of the standards I miss. I thought about this all day because as I was walking my friend back to his store a horrible Cretan flung his taxi door open and smacked me in the arm with it, the force of which threw me a few steps into my friend. After my friend steadied me and made sure I was relatively unhurt I realized that I was in rather a lot of pain. I turned around to look at the man who caused the discomfort and he completely ignored me. He had to know that he had hit me from the gasp I let out from the shock. A few seconds went by and he had STILL not acknowledged his poor behavior at all so I glared at him and still nothing. Perhaps I ruined the effect of tragic heroine when I lost all control and screamed at him but in those minutes I was in pain and angry. I still have the black and blue mark to show for it. He seemed to think at this point that he was the injured party. My friend tried to get him to acknowledge and accept in a very soft voice but still to no avail.
While I know that Cary Grant or Fred Astaire would never fling taxi doors open willy-nilly, I also know that had either lost control of a car door on a windy day, perhaps? I also know that each would have been quite solicitous of Katherine Hepburn or Julie Powell or Judy Garland. And any of those women would have been married to Cary or Fred by the end of the story! My husband also, would have made sure that someone was ok.
This paragraph might be controversial but here I go...in the course of life in a metropolis people bump. I get that and its fine. We all know these bumps are accidents so mouthing or mumbling platitudes of sorry and hurrying on really doesn't mean anything nor do I really want that. It doesn't take the pain away if someone steps on your foot or hits you with a bag so why bother? When I bump someone I say I'm sorry and I mean it so I make sure to look like I mean it. Again, the Philistine who smashed me with the door said absolutely nothing but it was much more serious than an accidental brushing of a bag and the mannerly thing to do would have been to at least mouth the fake sorry.
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