Circumambient Good Manners

 

circumambient - adjective - surrounding (Google)

Manners, a.k.a. decorum, is not a topic dangling from myriad lips these days. In fact, nowhere is it visible in the circumambient woke vocabulary. But should Emily Post's etiquette have gone the way of the Oldsmobile? Call us antiquated, but there are some of us around who still feel that politeness and decency and empathy are contentment's essential ingredients and should make up the circumambient climate.

No doubt, you are probably wondering what gave me the impetus to delve into this realm. Well, last night, two back-to-back, related occurrences breathed down my neck from the front, propelling me to choose this subject. Event 1: I picked up the most recent copy of TIME magazine, a periodical I read religiously, and randomly opened it to an article entitled,"The Rudeness Epidemic" by Belinda Luscombe. In case you missed it, the introduction reads: "The pandemic may have had a lethal effect on American manners. Lawyers are reporting ruder clients. Restaurants are reporting ruder clients. Flight attendants, for whom rude clients are no novelty, are reporting mayhem; passenger fines have exceeded $1 million this year. Re-entry into society is proving to be a little bumpy." I'd say so. But can we really blame the pandemic for our own inability to be compassionate and cooperative? Shouldn't we have learned to embrace these abstractions in kindergarten? I'll leave you to contemplate that. 

Event 2: If you read yesterday's entry, you already know that my daughter successfully ran the New York City Marathon on Sunday. A few days beforehand, a group of her friends drove into town from parts north and south to attend the race as loyal supporters, staying en masse for the entire weekend at one particular friend's home in the vicinity of the city. Last night, said hostess texted a lengthy tirade to my daughter, castigating the other mutual BFF's for their selfish demeanors as apparently, not one showed up at her home with a hostess gift (In fairness, they probably don't even know what that is.) or offered to pay for groceries, treat the hostess to a dinner out in exchange for her generosity, etc. Their clear attitude of  entitlement was abhorrent to her, a fellow Millennial whose parents or kindergarten teacher actually managed to instill in her something of genuine value: unmitigated manners. Most likely, she already knows not to wait in vain for anything resembling a thank-you note, but hopefully, she is hopeful that someone's gratitude in regard to the all-expenses-paid weekend on her tab might be reflected in an email, or at the least, a text message. 

What is on the sad side is that we as humans are indeed capable of much unselfishness, yet we don't tap into it. For example, during the marathon on Sunday, so many in the gallery shouted out their support and held out signs that read, "Believe!" We who stand in the gallery of everyday life must believe that we can do better when it comes down to treating each other well. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" should be everyone's mantra regardless of whether or not one is religious. Despite circumambient circumstances beyond our control, i.e. a pandemic, we can't lose something as valuable as propriety. As most kindergarten teachers already know, "Kindness is king." Let's spread it around like wild fire so that good manners are truly circumambient :). 

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Illimitable Determination

 

illimitable - adjective - without limits or an end (Google).

Every once in awhile, human nature will surprise me in a positive sense. Every once in a blue moon, I'll witness feats of true grit and resolution, and all of my doubts regarding the capabilities of my fellow beings will stand still, erect in salutation, recognizing the accomplishments as they parade before me. 

Yesterday, at the New York City Marathon, the 30,000 runners, (one of whom was my daughter) passing  in drips and drabs of motion whilst I observed, standing on the sidelines of First Avenue and later, Central Park, rendered me speechless. I had never before seen such illimitable determination and discipline in one comparatively small space. Along with his/her/their name and number, each one of the entrants wore courage, confidence, control and concentration even though by mile 23, most were in extreme pain, fighting with physical and emotional anguish, the desire to end it all and quit. Yet for most, giving up wasn't an option. My daughter kept up an impressive pace of 10.09 for the initial twenty and fell to 12.00 the last few thousand feet. After the race, she confided in me that during those final moments, it was excruciating for her to put one foot in front of the other, no less continue to trot in one direction. Pure adrenalin and an avowal that she had to finish what she had started catapulted her to the endpoint at Tavern on the Green. 

As my daughter's mother, I could not have been prouder that she had stuck it out and finished the race. However, at the end of the day, that sense of personal pride grew like a seed inside of me to include more abstract concepts, two of which were hope and optimism. If 30,000 people of all ages, colors, creeds, shapes, sizes, etc. could come together and do what most wouldn't–run, jog, or even walk 26 miles without respite–why can't we as a human race come together and achieve the impossible: solve our most pressing problems in an expedient manner? 

The potential of us human beings to achieve is illimitable. All we have to do is concentrate on finishing the uphill races that we have started. Anything is possible if we put our minds and bodies to accomplishing it. 

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The Trepidation of Fire

 

trepidation - noun - a feeling of fear or agitation about something that may happen (Google).

As humans, we are all too familiar with the feeling of trepidation. The seemingly omnipresent pandemic has only served to pad the pockets of something already endemic in the human condition. I get it. But it just seems to me that some of us transcend common trepidation that is usually fleeting into something more egregious: obsessive apprehension that tends to be focused on one thing, the climate crisis, for instance.

Case in point: The other day, I spent some quality time with what we, meaning boomers, would have once termed "old fuddy-duddies, " senior citizens who spend an inordinate amount of time complaining, particularly about contemporary issues over which they have no control. Basically these people are female friends of mine.When I broached the topic of a potential move to L.A. from Jersey, one of the four piped up,"Why would you want to move there? What about the wild fires? Aren't you afraid of being caught up in one and having it destroy your entire life?" My answer was a decisive and resolute, "No. We live in New Jersey and have survived horrific hurricanes, fierce floods, burying blizzards, torturous tornadoes. We even had a Californian-style earthquake several years ago, if you recall. Taking all of these trepidatious natural hazards into consideration, I'd say it's much safer to live in Los Angeles." She disagreed, pointing out that death by fire would be much worse than death by water. Who said anything about dying? But okay, I gave her that one. Nevertheless, to stay at the apex of the argument (I couldn't let her win.), I simply summarized my death-defying past and told her that I can't live my life in fear of what the future will bring. After my harangue was over, either out of incomprehension or mere frustration, she shot me a grim grimace, and the topic segued into garrulous husbands, which I described at length two blog entries ago. 

Trepidation, albeit a trait that cannot be erased entirely from the human psychological playbook, can surely be averted via refusing to get caught up in it. Being present–staying in the moment–would definitely help if you are particularly prone to obsessive apprehension.  

The bottomline belongs to Charles Franklin: "No one gets out of this life alive." So enjoy each moment as it comes until you can't any longer. Lighten up and toss out trepidation. Your friends will thank you if you do.

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Mountebanks and Deception

 

mountebank - noun - a person who deceives others, especially in order to trick them out of their money; a charlatan (Google).

As I was immersed in reading F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Beautiful and the Damned, a homage to a failing upperclass romantic union during the Jazz Age, I came across the unfamiliar mountebank. At first, I tried to define it myself, using contextual clues, but couldn't. Ergo, I did what anyone else would do: I Googled the meaning on my iPhone. The definition did not surprise me because I am sure that there were plenty of charlatans back in Scott's day who tried and succeeded at pulling the wool over the eyes of the privileged few. 

Of course, since human nature doesn't evolve over time, mountebanks still survive and often thrive today because they have so many outlets that enable them to succeed. Most don't call them by this sophisticated term, though. Most just call them "scammers," and they are ubiquitous. From Dickensian child pickpockets on the streets of Istanbul to Internet hackers that defy physical borders, we among the honest are at the mercy of deceivers. 

Unfortunately, we senior citizens tend to be the fairest game. I can't tell you how many times I have thwarted con men. Just last week, a bogus company got a hold of my gmail and emailed me an invoice for a product that I never purchased. When I called the phone number associated with the bill for more information, a man with a thick Indian accent attempted to take me through a litany of procedures on my laptop, most likely meant to render it vulnerable to unlawful invasion. After I threatened to call my bank to report the suspected breach, the individual hung up on me, solidifying my supposition: that neither he nor his organization was legitimate. 

Mountebank P.T. Barnum once said, "There's a sucker born every minute." Although all grifters know this to be true to an extent, we can fight back by relinquishing our naivete. We can educate ourselves about scams and learn not to accept anything or anyone at face value as there will always be con artists, dressed up, dressed down or invisible to the naked eye.

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Logorrhea between the Sexes

 

logorrhea - noun - tendency to extreme talkativeness (Google)

I don't know about you, but I have often wondered which sex, male or female, has more of a propensity for loquacity. To be absolutely fair, one's final decision could boil down to life experience. For one, I grew up with a garrulous mother given to somewhat mendacious monologues meant to fill up blank space. My father, who played the diffident, doting husband, blindly in love with my mother, forever granted her centerstage and never so much managed an aside to quell her logorrhea. Consequently, I matured thinking that women, not men, are scene stealers when it comes to talking. 

This afternoon, I was outnumbered and my theory, proven wrong. Four married women friends of mine, all extremely erudite, retired high school teachers, and I make up an inappreciable book club that meets once a month to discuss a tome of choice. After we had thoroughly dissected November's selection, George Saunders's Lincoln in the Bardo, and could go no further, the conversation segued into their husbands's shared talent for talkativeness. All complained quite unanimously and vociferously of their spouses' tendencies to go on and on ad infinitum sans respite, leaving them enervated, yet frustrated. One friend, a subtly fierce native Texan, married to an endearing artist from Utah, exclaimed, "I often say, 'Enough, you damn bastard! Just let me get a word in edgewise for a change.'" Indeed, each woman had a similar derogatory directive to impart. As a divorced, single woman, I felt like I had to defend the absent males and countered with, "Well, I am always fascinated with what my therapist boyfriend has to say." Their mutual feeling was that I would soon become tired and bored with his verbal contributions as well. Maybe, but I doubt that since I don't see us ever tying the knot. My friends and more like them are poor salespersons when it comes to advertising wedded bliss as none seem to know what it looks like even though they have been joined at the hip to their men for nearly forty years. 

So, gentlemen, if you are reading this, I beg your pardon if my friends have belittled you personally or your gender in any way. If there is a moral to this story, and there usually is, it is that equal time on the conversational stage seems an equitable solution. Ladies and gents, particularly those of you who are married: Just be aware of how long your monologue is so that it doesn't turn into a soliloquy, performed solo sans an audience. 

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Recondite Common Sense and Perspective

 

recondite - adjective - little known, abstruse (Google)

Sometimes I think that common sense is not only uncommon but downright recondite. I am going to tuck in proper perspective as well because often they hinge on each other. To own the common sense to perceive in order to put things in their rightful place or places, as the case might be, is a rarity.

Case in point: Yesterday, my daughter and I drove over to historic Shady Rest to cast our ballots in the New Jersey gubernatorial election. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your perspective, the place was packed with impatient, masked neighbors hoping to accomplish their civic duty as quickly and efficiently as possible sans any unforeseen challenges. As my daughter and I were waiting in one of two long lines of people butt up against each other to advance behind the curtain of our designated machine, I had time to survey the room. The first thing I noticed was the size of the space, which was capacious enough to accommodate comfortably the two machines, the lengthy table of volunteer poll workers, their urbane technological wonders, and all of the voters quite satisfactorily socially distanced in two lines if whoever had organized the event had possessed the common sense to see that half of the area was being unused. Everything and everybody were unnecessarily crowded into half of the assembly chamber. And unsurprisingly, few on line recognized the fact. 

I know the aforementioned is small in comparison to the much larger, but it remains an example of the point that I am trying to make. Common sense should not be recondite; it should be obvious. If only people would look around and truly see what surrounds them, they might be able to make a few positive changes to benefit more than a few others. Just saying...

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Atavistic Greed

 

atavistic - adjective - relating to or characterized by reversion to something ancient or ancestral (Google).

For me, Halloween is an occasion to get upfront and somewhat personal with children trying unsuccessfully to hide their true natures behind masks and imaginative costumery. Despite the creative facades, however, human nature is recognizable, notably atavistic greed. As we already know, greed is one of the seven deadly sins, most of which people sidestep today since few want to acknowledge that sin is even a contemporary concept worthy of notice. Despite our ignorance, when hit in the face with it, we can't help but call the spade a spade. 

Yesterday afternoon, Halloween Day, I decided to conduct an experiment reminiscent of William Golding's test of his male elementary school students that wound up inspiring him to pen Lord of the Flies. I bought large, movie-theater-size boxes of popular candy, enough for the first twenty trick-or-treaters, positioning them on a pumpkin-and-orange-plastic-festooned card table, which I had erected at the end of my driveway. Upon sight, the first wave of revelers ran to the table, screaming (Think the Beatles' Hard Day Night here.) various enthused exclamations. Despite the chaos, I stood unfazed, observing, saying little. What I witnessed surprised me. For most of the children, one large box a piece was not enough. Most started to take as many as their frenetic, splayed fingers could grasp until I authoritatively interrupted the obvious thievery with, "No. Take only one. Please." Naturally, they listened, especially since their moms and dads were not too far away, Their mere presence was a grievous reminder that the errant sons and daughters would not get away with any amoral behaviors that afternoon. Needless to say, after two more waves of masqueraders, the movie-theater candy lasted about twenty minutes, disappearing first before the snack-size bags of chips, Reeses, Hersey bars and Kit Kats. Between the boys and the girls, I'd say the boys exhibited more in the way of blatant nerve, not giving their unrepentant rapacity a second thought, whereas the girls seemed more apologetic and ashamed after being caught redhanded with multiple treats. Summarily, gender aside, atavistic greed oozed up from beneath the surface, lodging itself in the hands of these children. So much for innocence. 

Rather than comment/judge further, I'm going to leave you with the words of one of my favorite writers, Oscar Wilde:

"The more one analyzes people, the more all reasons for analysis disappear. Sooner or later, one comes to that dreadful universal thing called human nature."

Thank you, sir.