Tag Archives: manners

Hats, Manners and Society

baseball capI was at a local restaurant on the weekend, enjoying a nice meal with my wife. Of the six males – I hesitate to call them ‘men’ for reasons below – in the particular room in which we sat, I was the only one not wearing a baseball cap. I was also the only one not under 30.

Wearing a hat indoors, as I was taught by people whose manners were impeccable (my parents and grandparents), is gauche. Gauche: graceless, awkward, unsophisticated.

Wearing at hat at the table during a meal was so crude as to be viewed in social terms in the same category as breaking wind in public. Yet there they were. At a younger age than them, I would have received a smack for even thinking of doing so. Perhaps they were orphans without parents to raise them appropriately in the matter of manners and behaviour.

Why does anyone wear a hat indoors? It doesn’t protect the wearer from sun or rain indoors. It is as much use at the dinner table as wearing a raincoat and galoshes and holding an umbrella. Is it simply crude and coarse behaviour or just laziness? Given the me-me-me nature of the selfie generation, perhaps it is both. So obsessed with themselves, they cannot bear to remove an icon of their carefully crafted look-alike image.

Perhaps it is also an indication of poor hygiene: I always suspect the wearers have not washed their hair – or perhaps, judging by their dress, their bodies – for several days, and do not wish to have their greasy hair noticed in public (don’t get me started on the trend for shaggy, unkempt hillbilly beards…)

Emily Post, who became famous for writing about etiquette, would have been scandalized. After all, one of her prime rules about the wearing of hats was to  remove it when at mealtimes, at the table, In restaurants and in coffee shops. Only boors did not agree with her judgment.

Young men these days don’t read Emily Post. Or any other books about manners. Ours is a gloriously selfish, individualist, uncivil age where each person’s wants and needs are more important than those of anyone else and respect is a sign of weakness. And to express their staunch individuality, the younger generations all dress alike and show bad manners.

Nor do young men read advice about clothing. Sartorial etiquette is entirely missing from their education. All five were dressed identically although in two different parties: somewhat worn and faded black T-shirts, untucked over equally worn jeans. No effort was made to dress for dinner or at least tidy up. No effort was made to reflect that a social outing for an evening meal was of some greater significance than, say, sitting in the back of a pickup truck guzzling beer.

Their shabby appearance made what should have been a fine dining experience for the rest of the clientele feel more like a hasty meal in a truck stop populated with construction workers on a break. The ambience was lowered to the lowest common denominator: them.

Don’t mistake me. I understand casual: I dress so most of my day when I work from home. But I do not dress so not for every occasion, nor would I wear scruffy clothes to a dinner or event. I wear hats at times, too, yes, even baseball caps, but would never consider keeping it on indoors. It is just uncouth and lowers the quality of the experience for those around you. It is, in essence, uncivil. Uncouth.

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Manners, bloody manners

Calvin & HobbesI was in a local grocery store not long ago, standing mid-aisle and peering at shelves of canned products, trying to find the ones I wanted for my cart. As I reached out to snag a can in front of me, a cart appeared between me and the display. To my right, a woman – talking on a cell phone – had pushed the cart in front of me and turned away. She was now busily chattering rather loudly to someone while she absently looked over a shelf in another area.

She was completely oblivious of other shoppers. Never looked over to see where her cart had landed.

No concern, no social awareness. No manners.

Manners are an expression of social awareness, of your role in the community, in the social whole. They are not some outdated, outmoded or arcane form of behaviour. No more than being aware of – and responding or reacting to – other drivers on a highway is outmoded. Manners are a form of social consciousness, of awareness that we live in a shared space. Awareness that others matter.

Manners are also a choice. We hope the behaviour that they manifest will become automatic, like saying please and thank you, or excuse me when interrupting. But manners are foremost a choice we make on how to behave: socially or anti-socially.

Etiquette is the various forms and actions we use to express manners. Etiquette is opening the door for someone; letting someone back out of a parking space in front of you. Etiquette changes with technology, age, class, culture and context. Doffing one’s cap or tugging the forelock have gone out of style, because etiquette is fluid. But making a gesture of respect or support for another has not gone out of style, nor ever will.

Etiquette is saying thank you when handed your order in the coffee shop. Manners is knowing that social interaction depends on recognizing that such interactions deserve recognition. And knowing such recognition is the glue for societies.

Manners is knowing we need to interact on a positive level; we need to recognize one another, to survive and grow together.

How you do so is less important than actually knowing that you should do so, and following through.

As Wisegeek defines them:

Manners involve general behavioral guidelines, such as treating the elderly with respect and courtesy. Etiquette is a specific code of behavior, with an example of etiquette being knowledge of the proper mode of address for a queen, which is, incidentally “Your Majesty.” In some societies, people regard etiquette as elitist and unnecessarily refined, but this is actually not the case. Many of the rules of etiquette are already practiced by people with good manners, and a demonstration of familiarity with good manners will mark someone as cultured, polite company.

Lynne Truss, author of Talk to the Hand, wrote on her blog,

I’d also written talks about the burden of choice and the pernicious effect of the internet on the way people think of themselves in relation to “society”… Talk to the Hand is emphatically not about an us-and-them situation, or not straightforwardly. It’s about us all not knowing any more how to share space with each other, or treat each other respectfully.

The full title of Truss’ book is, Talk to the Hand – The Utter Bloody Rudeness of Everyday Life (or six good reasons to stay at home and bolt the door.)* A reviewer in The Independent wrote,

Truss’s conclusion – and she apologises for the lack of surprises – is that good, imaginative, well-mannered behaviour makes the world a better place.

In which I also firmly believe. By better I don’t mean some utopian ideal; just that manners lubricate the social interactions in a way that makes them smoother, generate less friction. Manners are essential for civilized society.

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Who Knows Where the Time Goes?

Fiarport Convention, 1969I was thinking of the lines from that Fairport Convention song this week as we walked through Toronto on our three-day mini-holiday.

I can still hear Sandy Denny’s wonderful, haunting voice singing the chorus of that dreamy, sad song, as vibrantly as the day I first played the album, back in the late 1960s:

For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?

That song has stuck with me all these years, an anthem of the era, but strangely prescient. Who would have thought it would resonate in an entirely different way, 45 years later?

Denny died in 1978, a great talent whose life was marred by tragedy and addiction. Fairport Convention, an eclectic, always-changing and highly innovative group, seems to still be together with some of the original members. Denny herself was with them for only about two years in a time of great musical creativity and exploration for so many people, 1968-69.

What made me think of these lines was walking through Queen Street West last week, past the hip and the cool fashion stores; stopping at Steve’s Music store to browse – and being at least twice as old as everyone else on the street or in the shops, often old enough to be everyone’s grandfather.

It’s a young part of town, but in the 80s, it was a part we frequented a lot. Everyone seemed to be our age, back then.

I don’t remember growing this old. (When did they?*)

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