Tag: etiquette

Tuesday’s Child

Passing through another anniversary of the events of 9/11 this week, I was touched by a YouTube short of U.S. Marines demonstrating the proper method of folding the American flag. The video includes gentle background music but no words, lending reverence to the ceremony. Folding the Stars and Stripes the right way is not only a nod of respect to our nation’s banner, but also an example of (flag) etiquette.
 
One of my favorite memories of my late mother was her ability to gently but effectively prod her sons to behave properly.  She would sometimes say quietly, “Mind your manners”, which meant two things.  One, something in our current behavior wasn’t in sync with how she raised us; and two, we would get a talking to later.  “Please” and “thank you” barely scratched the surface of how my brothers and I were expected to carry ourselves back then.
 
I’ve always thought of manners and etiquette as one in the same, but the former is a subset of the latter.  Etiquette is “the set of norms of personal behavior in polite society”, while manners are simply behaviors deemed “good” or “bad”.  An example of both is the way we drive our cars.  We’re taught the rules of the road, also known as “driving etiquette”.  But when we blatantly ignore those rules by, say, refusing to let a car merge onto the interstate in front of us, we’re letting bad manners get the better of etiquette.
 
Manners always remind me of a book my grandparents encouraged us to read whenever we visited: Gelette Burgess’ 1903 classic The Goops (and How To Be Them).  Here’s an example of Goop behavior in Burgess’ poetry, simply titled “In Table”:
 
Why is it Goops must always wish
To touch each apple on the dish?
Why do they never neatly fold
Their napkins until they are told?
 
Why do they play with food, and bite
Such awful mouthfuls?  Is it right?
Why do they tilt back in their chairs?
Because they’re Goops!  So no one cares!
 
My mother probably labeled us Goops at one time or another, because my brothers and I were all about fingering our food or talking with food in our mouths or rocking back in our chairs.  It’s a wonder we developed any manners at all.  Maybe it’s because our mother’s parenting was fueled by a finishing school of sorts: her college sorority, where a premium was placed on etiquette.
 
Alpin Videmanette
Finishing schools, designed to “teach young women social graces as preparation for entry into society”, are something of an outdated concept now, at least in America.  You can still find a few “charm schools” in Europe, such as Switzerland’s prestigious Institut Alpin Videmanette – (whose teenage graduates included Lady Diana Spencer).  The Institut teaches young women to cook, make dresses, speak French, and even ski, but at its core, the curriculum is an education in etiquette.
 
Emily Post

The undisputed authority on etiquette, Emily Post, wrote several books and newspaper columns on the topic.  In the America of her lifetime (1872-1960) Post’s first etiquette book became a bestseller because it catered to “the country’s exotic mix of immigrants… eager to fit in with the establishment”.  I suggest most of Post’s etiquette is as relevant today as it was back then… and a lot of us could use an extensive refresher.

Always pass them together!
Besides the Goops, etiquette reminds me of an old poem teaching children the days of the week. “Monday’s Child” goes like this:
 
Monday’s child is fair of face,
Tuesday’s child is full of grace,
Wednesday’s child is full of woe,
Thursday’s child has far to go,
Friday’s child is loving and giving,
Saturday’s child works hard for a living,
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day, Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.
 
Google tells me I was born on a Monday.  Darn it, so close.  If I was Tuesday’s Child I’d be defined as “… agreeable, refined, and polite in manner or behavior.”  In other words, demonstrating a solid understanding of etiquette.
 
The next time you’re standing on an escalator, step to the right to let those in a hurry pass by.  The next time you play golf, stay out of the line of sight when your opponent putts.  The next time you’re at the movies, don’t utter a word until the final credits roll.  And the next time you fold the flag, do it the way the Marines do. After all, you’d rather be credited with following the rules of etiquette than perceived as having bad manners.
 

Some content sourced from Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

Blame it on the Dutch

Last Saturday, after the umpteenth edition of dinner-and-a-movie with my wife (or in this case, movie-and-a-dinner), we arrived back home to a phone message from the restaurant, saying I’d left my credit card behind. I never make that mistake. Let me rephrase – since my wife reads this blog – I almost never make that mistake.  Credit the restaurant for taking our phone number when we arrived, “just in case we need to contact you later”.  Credit the very nice bottle of wine – empty by the end of the meal – for contributing to my forgetfulness (though not to my driving).

Hey, at least I paid the bill before I left my card behind.  Because that’s what I do when it comes to nights out with my wife.  The gentleman pays.

“The gentlemen pays” is up for judgment in the new world order.  “Paying etiquette” – especially on first dates – has become a lot more complicated with modern social conventions (i.e. dating apps).  As if first dates aren’t stressful enough already.

Whether the guy invites the girl out for a drink, or the guy invites the girl out for dinner, or even the girl invites the guy out for dinner, you’d be inclined to say he/she who does the inviting picks up the bill, right?  I know I would, but it’s not that simple.

“A drink” (as in, the result of a swipe on the Tinder app) implies a quick meet-up, where one or both parties dance around the potential for a longer-term relationship.  If this really is the agenda (and nothing else), I’d argue both parties split the bill.  Could get awkward.

“A dinner” (as in, the result of a well-designed profile on the eHarmony app) implies a more serious stab at a relationship.  In this case I’d argue the “inviter” pays the bill, not the “invitee”.  Unless you’re in New York or San Francisco.  Social convention in those cities leans towards both parties splitting the bill, since restaurant tabs flirt with the $200 mark. Not exactly disposable income for most young people.  Could get awkward.

In “the girl invites the guy” (as in, the Bumble app, where only she can “make the first move”), I’d argue the girl pays.  But what if the girl is “traditional”, and holds out on paying just to see if he’s a “gentleman”?  Again, could get awkward.

If “who pays?” hasn’t been decided beforehand, the mind games really kick in with gestures to pay the bill, otherwise known as “the reach”.  Some women do “the reach” to appear a team player (when in fact they have no intention of paying the bill).   Some men interpret the woman’s reach as her wish to pay; in return, somehow “looking good by not falling into stereotypes”.  Other men pounce on the woman’s reach as the perfect opportunity to suggest half and half.

Half and half is also known as “going Dutch”; a phrase with take-your-pick origins.  The most common origin ties back to the 17th century Anglo-Dutch wars (also coining the phrases “Dutch treat” and “Dutch courage”).  The more fitting origin however, comes from “Dutch door”; the farmhouse invention of two equal halves.  A Dutch door is sometimes referred to as a “split door”.  “Fits the bill”, wouldn’t you say?

Going Dutch is not as safe as it sounds.  One time my wife and I met a couple in downtown Chicago, for a pricey meal atop the John Hancock tower.  As we waited in the bar for our table, the husband knocked back several expensive drinks, followed by several more at dinner.  Imagine my shock when the dinner bill was merged with the bar bill.  The husband casually said, “let’s just split this, shall we?”

My daughter is a twenty-something, brand new to the dating scene in Los Angeles.  As far as she’s concerned, forget everything I’ve discussed in the paragraphs above.  She has one and only one rule: the gentleman always pays.  Frankly, that’s just fine with me.