Oops! Correction!! Where Have You Gone, Emily Post? Our Nation Turns Its Lonely Eyes To You. . .

Buck advises me that the article referenced below came from the New York Times rather than the WSJ.  Oops -- my bad!!

Blog Buddy, Buck, emailed me a link today to an article in the Wall Street Journal entitled, "A Last Bastion of Civility, the South, Sees Manners Decline."  In addition to me, apparently several scholars of southern tradition and culture have documented a definite erosion in what was once the headquarters of politeness, deference, and making one's guests feel at home.

I believe that erosion has reached a critical stage, where, if we don't build a retaining wall pretty soon, etiquette, common courtesy, and table manners may just crash right onto the highway to hell. 

We are living through the Jerry Springer-ization of America.  There is not much evidence around these days suggesting that people of different opinions can engage in a reasonable debate without yelling over one another, and/or slinging furniture.

The article explores many possible causes for the death of Manners: parents too busy to teach their children; hyper-sensitive political correctness; feminism.  Damn Yankees.  I'd like to add the absence of military service as a common practice -- there's a culture of respectful behavior if ever there was one in which one must adhere to The Code to survive, not even mentioning to thrive. 

Back in the '90s, when I was teaching in the College of Business Administration at UALR, a male colleague and I wrote a Grant Proposal to fund a team-taught class in Business Etiquette to be presented from both a man's and a woman's perspective.  We included not only such obvious things as Interview Protocol, Phone Etiquette, and Correspondence Do's and Don'ts, we also included Table Manners, Cocktail Party Etiquette, and Varieties of Attire.  We didn't get the grant, and the idea pretty soon faded.  It's a shame that we were ahead of our time (and that the Dean at the time did not have Southern roots!).

At least the article ends on a hopeful note -- it seems that 70-year old Mrs. Dorothy McLeod, who teaches ballroom dance and etiquette to children, has no room in her classes; they're filled to the brim.  Let's just hope someone comes along to keep her mission alive.

As an aside -- contemplating a time when good manners were de rigeur -- I'd like to share a little piece of the tour I took last week of the Houmas House Plantation on River Road.  The house and grounds have been meticulously and lovingly restored to a period when gentlemen retired to the Drawing Room after dinner for cigars and bourbon while the ladies made do with brandied fruit and embroidery -- and the servants did the dishes.  (I think I could get into that "servants doing the dishes" thing!)  The Docent, Judy, was among the best I've ever seen -- she was spirited away from another plantation when the current owner of Houmas House (who actually lives there!) saw her perform.  She's been with him since 2003 and is raising three children on what she earns there.  She's funny and very knowledgeable, being a student of history, the Arts, and human nature. And talk about talented!  She not only described the 1813 Steinway grand piano in the front parlor, she played it!



She chose to do "Desperado" instead of a period piece because she really likes The Eagles.  And, she thought our group was fun.  And, of course, we were.

So, let's all just slow down a little bit and try to engage in a little bit more Golden Rule action.  Remember, as I pointed out yesterday, Karma can be a bitch.O

Some People Need to Break Out of Their Own Little Universe

If I had to choose one thing that makes that big vein in Pepper's temple swell and pulse to beat the band, it's encountering another driver who is talking, or texting, on a cell phone.  (Asian women drivers in New Orleans are a close second, but cell phones definitely win). 

I can usually tolerate chatting drivers, unless they're totally distracted and approaching me under head-on-collision conditions, but I saw something today that I. Could. Not. Believe.

I was sitting at a red light and heard/saw an ambulance coming down the four-lane cross-street with lights flashing and siren blaring.  There were several cars ahead of it, most of which were jockeying for position to get out of its way.  Most of them, that is, except for the lady talking on the cell phone and gesticulating wildly as she moseyed on down the road in her silver Altima, totally oblivious to the ambulance on her rear bumper.  I mean totally oblivious.

She didn't even react when the driver honked at her as he turned onto the side street where Touro Hospital is located.  I suppose Touro was its destination, and that tells me that it was loaded with someone in enough medical distress to summon an ambulance.  And with the cost of medical transport these days, there had to be plenty of medical distress involved to make that kind of investment!  And, although unlikely, that woman could potentially have cost that patient precious seconds in receiving life-saving treatment!

They say that what goes around, comes around, and that Karma is a bitch.  If that's the case -- and I do believe it is -- I'd say that we should all steer clear of the lady in the silver Altima for the near future.

Sheesh.  Some people.

Happy Halloween Eve!

Heh.

I'd never thought of The Wizard of Oz in quite these terms before, but the premise seems to work!

The Pre- Halloween Power of Twelve

Something just occurred to me that adds up to 2012 being a banner year for Moogie's family.  Something big must be coming.

Consider these addresses with connections to us:

#12 Sandstone Court -- where I lived when I met Pep

1912 Arrowhead Drive -- the address of our first house together

2613 Wentwood Valley -- our next house -- 2 + 6 + 1 + 3 = 12

4503 Moogie Lane -- the current site of Moogie's Mansion -- 4 + 5 + 0 + 3 = 12

1912 Landry -- the address of the New Orleans Military and Maritime Academy where Pep is a new member of the Board of Directors.

ADDITION -- Younger daughter pointed out that her wedding date, 06-04-11, also adds up to 12!  Elder daughter's only misses by 1 -- 04-24-10 = 11.  Curiouser and curiouser!

Or, if you take the more "typical" numerology route, 1 + 2 = 3; 3 stands for "fulfillment, social gathering, achievement," so, unless we plan to host a big, successful party to explore the mysteries of the Mayan calendar, I doubt that The Apocalypse will come into play.  I suppose we need  politely to decline any invitation to attend such a party, too, so please don't invite us to one.

Pretty weird, huh?  What do you think?

Ya Gotta Love a Principal Who Sticks to her Guns. Um, Principles. She Doesn't Carry, I'm Pretty Sure.

I'm sitting here listening to the intercom (yes, they broadcast over their intercom to the entire neighborhood, but we always know what's going on!) at Sophie B. Wright Institute for Academic Excellence (Whew! That's a mouthful, even when you type it!) down the street, and I've just experienced yet another refreshing note of what's happening in that school.

The Principal's irritated voice (yes, I recognize her voice by now) summoned three students by name and directed them to board the bus at once:  "Get on the bus now.  You're holding up the entire bus and the entire route.  Get aboard your bus immediately, and I mean NOW! Do NOT make me go looking for you!"

How cool is that -- a principal who takes no guff and suffers no fools.  Way to walk the walk, Ms. Clark!  Happy Homecoming Week!

Occupy Theater of the Absurd

I don't remember where I stole it, but, Heh.  Such a good fit.

From Today's Inbox

This one's pretty good! 

Montana Bear Tragedy
This is a very sad story about a bear... Everybody should heed the warnings not to feed wildlife because they become dependent and don't forage for themselves any longer. It is such a tragedy to see what has been done to our country's wildlife. The photo below captures a disturbing trend that is beginning to affect U.S. wildlife. (Read below photo)

Animals that formerly were self-sufficient are now showing signs of belonging to the Democrat Party. They have apparently learned to just sit and wait for the government to step in and provide for their care and sustenance. This photo is of a black bear in Montana turned Democrat. He's nicknamed Bearack Obearma. It is believed that he has become a campground organizer.

Now, if we could just get a shot of Bearack with Barack and "Hairy" Reid doing Vegas together . . . .