November 30, 2005

  • WHEN MARX AND HIS ILK DREAMT OF A CLASSLESS SOCIETY I DON’T THINK THIS IS WHAT THEY HAD IN MIND…instead of a culture devoid of caste systems and fatted pigs living off the honest toil of the working poor, we have achieved a society devoid of…class.

    I’m not uptight. I’m not a stuffed shirt. I don’t expect everyone to live by one grand set of Wells-ian theological rules. However, I really wish we, as a society, could maintain a little more class. What is class? Manners. Knowing what they are and when they should be applied. Manners let other people know you care. About yourself, them, and the fact that both of you are coincidentally inhabiting the same space at the same time for the moment. Manners do not care about alpha-males, bank rolls or booty calls. Manners are appropriate for all ages and span all socio-economic bridges.

    But instead…

    Movie theatres are populated with patrons taking cell phone calls (“I’m seeing that movie…the one with that guy, you know the one married to that girl…no the other one…it’s okay so far…where you guys at?”), ready to four-letter-defend his or her right to do so when shushed repeatedly.

    Car horns are not relegated to warning other drivers of imminent danger or unexpected hello’s. They are a sonic “fuck you” for the most minor infraction, real or imagined, and one can only assume the next step in the anger progression is firearm display and discharge.

    Somewhere along the line, the phrase “you’re not the boss of me,’ delusional yet age-appropriate during the primary school years, hit a developmental hiccup and became “nobody can mess with me” well into adulthood, still delusional, no longer age-appropriate and now contributing in a big bad way to Classless America. The sentiments it unfortunately enveloped in its wake include “thank you,” “I’m sorry,” “excuse me,” “can I help you?” (note – not the sarcastic “I’m going to slap you” version), and “damn, I screwed up.” Also notably missing from the lexicon of the “never messed with” is the honestly spoken phrase, “I don’t know.” Think about it.

    Before anyone gets his/her panties in a knot thinking this is some pointed barb against any specific group of people, let me point out right now my that I stand agape at these seemingly un-classifiable classless. Old, young, rich, poor, educated and un, lots of colors and lifestyle choices. I’m flummoxed. I never thought that I, Kim, not-yet-middle-aged-but-no-spring-chicken former punk-rock semi-hipster musician, artist, mother-of-three, I never in my life thought I would be the one in the position of Manners Police. Has there been a lapse in teaching manners? I have a few theories:

    I blame materialism and marketing, not necessarily in that order. The Me Generation became the Buy Me Generation. Instant gratification (for Me) is omnipresent. Ads for everything from sports drinks, diamond rings, yoga retreats and designer underpants claim “You deserve this.” Me me me me me me. How is the world treating Me. What does the world owe Me. How is society wronging Me? What’s in it for Me? How can I make this better for Me? (This probably what an advertising worksheet for a new product looks like.) Now everyone’s on his/her own hamster wheel running for…Me. No time for, you know, You.

    I blame the breakdown of face-to-face human contact as a major contributor. Screens with no emotional feedback to read are what too many people use as a way of communicating on a daily basis. (Like, for instance, this blog.) Cell phones. Fax machines. AIM. Chat rooms. The death of manners. When there is no emotional nuance to read in someone’s face, there is nothing to lose – or gain in the way we are meant to interact – with hormones and all five or six senses.

    Reality television has glamorized the most negative aspects of people’s relationships, characters and lifestyles, aspects that should be addressed privately and with concern by groups of close family and friends, and has turned these troubles times of troubled people into acceptable (if not imitable) situations. Is it really okay that “hoochie mama,” “baby-daddy,” and “paternity test” are part of our common vernacular? (or “skanky ho?”) I don’t advocate censorship of the airwaves. I just dream of a day when the shows would be cancelled for low ratings. Kinda like if all the New Country radio stations went under. I can dream, can’t I?

    Here’s the last grandma moment I have the energy to write tonight. Why are parents of teenagers today afraid to tell their kids to turn their damned phones off? Or to stop text messaging? Or to quit playing on the computer and do something else for awhile? Is there a feeling that “this is how it is now and my kid is part of this new technology’?? I have a teenager. I can see that it’s rude to take a phone call on your cell phone when you’re in someone else’s car (like your aunt or grandma or other adult-type-person). I can see that when you’re visiting family, you don’t answer your phone. You don’t sit in ANY room with people and text message. Can you say “I’d talk to you people, but this person typing cryptically with his thumbs is more interesting”? Teenagers are taking other teens everywhere they go, a movable feast, to the exclusion of the rest of the world. All very nice for them, but when they look up from the screen and have to talk to someone else…in person…about something…else…real…um…I dunno…CUL8R.

    Do you think that text messaging will lead to the painful arthritic death of this major human digit? Are modern teenagers taking a step down the slippery slope away from the primate’s opposable thumbs?! Horrors! Darwinism is at work. If so, I’m hoping my DNA strain might survive a little longer to pick up a raisin or two, for you see, I am teaching my children manners. And spelling full words, writing with a pen, and looking people in the eye when they speak to them. Also – DON’T TALK DURING THE DAMNED MOVIE.

    Kim

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