I don't know if I'm alone in this, but I'm betting not. At the same time, I openly admit that it's one of the most juvenile characteristics about me: I hate, hate, HATE it when someone fails to acknowledge that I've held the door open for them or let them into traffic.
My friend Martha has said that I have a good filter, meaning that I usually exhibit uncommon restraint and courtesy even when the situation may call for the acid side of my tongue. In truth, I've just mellowed a lot over time; I can't be bothered to get into an argument over most stuff. Also, there seem to be a lot more maniacs roaming the streets than there used to be. I don't want to draw their attention to me for any reason.
So, usually in the event that someone cuts into traffic or sails through a door like the QE2, I stew in silence and then forget about it.
A few weeks ago, however, my filter must have slipped a cog, gone on strike, or was otherwise occupied filtering out some other filthy remark or gesture.
We'd just come from dinner, and I was popping into another shop. The door was being held open for me by a friend. I actually paused to let another woman through first. When she breezed right through as though we were just the friendly doormen at the Plaza Hotel, I snarled, "You're so welcome."
Usually I receive no response and it only serves to make me feel momentarily better, as if I were the arbiter of good manners. And I don't actually know what I would do if one of those aforementioned maniacs responded to me. I'd rather not know.
This time, the woman turned around. My first thought was that she bore a striking resemblance to my mother, whom I would never address like that (I'd have no teeth if I had). My second thought was utter confusion: I was expecting some harsh words back, and she apologized. And then went on to explain that she'd just been in an accident and was really shaken up.
To my small credit, I walked back over to her and put my arm around her to see if she needed to sit. I also apologized for my sarcasm. And despite my apologies and belatedly kind gesture, I felt badly about it for days. I don't make it my mission in life to make people feel bad or worse than they already do.
I don't know what's going on in other people's lives. None of us do. If I was ever slapped in the face with a lesson, this, friends and neighbors, was it. I hope I've learned it well.
To reinforce it, I've been consciously letting people into traffic and holding doors open for them. And the funny thing is, they're usually polite about it.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Summer Reading
Some 20-somethings do live full enough lives to warrant an autobiography, but I'm not sure Bristol Palin or Levi Johnston rank among them. The publishing industry doesn't agree, however, because both are releasing their memoirs on an unsuspecting public.
What have they done beyond that of any other average teenage couple in America? She got drunk and lost her virginity during a camping trip and became pregnant. Unfortunate, but it happens all the time, everyday, all over the country. The expectant couple were engaged for about three minutes before the cheating and accusations starting flying faster than a Kodiak can swipe the grin off of Sarah Palin's over-exposed face.
Since then, Johnston and Palin have become fixtures in the tabloids, on television, everywhere. Sarah has or had a reality show based on her home state; Bristol went on a strange and hypocritical "I've-learned-my-lesson" abstinence tour sponsored by Candies, those makers of fine sandals and pole-dancing shoes. Bristol brought home the bacon for little Tripp on that one, pulling in some 200K. Then she competed on Dancing with the Stars. She lately confirmed rumors of plastic surgery. Well, why not? It's a rite of passage.
And Levi? Levi had no problem showing off what Bristol lost her virginity to for all the world to see (or whoever wanted to) in Playgirl magazine. That's when he wasn't busy running for mayor of whatever town he calls home or fathering another child with another girl.
Occassionally we'd hear jabs being thrown at one from the other, and then the dust seemed to settle. But now both have books coming out. Hers is titled, "Not Afraid of Life: My Journey So Far," comes out this summer, and the title implies a sequel. Incidentally, the cover looks like bad country music album art.
His is called "Deer in the Headlights: My Life in Sarah Palin's Crosshairs." Far be for me to actually defend Sarah Palin, but really: Levi, don't you think you sort of deserve to be in her crosshairs?
For me, this boils down to three things.
1. The hillbilly throw-down continues, only on a grander scale. It's like Dynasty meets Jerry Springer. There's enough political intrigue, scandal and drama to make a Kennedy blush. Oh yeah, and remember Tripp? That little biological byproduct of their outdoor gropings? Acrimony, name-calling and public grievance-airing are all great lessons to teach their son.
2. What wisdom could two 20-somethings possibly impart to their readership?
Oh yeah. Don't forget to use a condom. And if mom gets famous - or infamous - enough, we can all ride the reality show train 'til the grizzlies come home. What's next for Bristol? Housewives of Juneau?
3. Sarah, take note: not all publicity is good if you're even toying with running for the White House. Do you really want the monkeys out of the cage? Because you seem fine with it. And that frightens me.
So the question isn't whether you'll run out and scoop up these page turners. Sadly, if the publishing industry has seen fit to print these stories, then there must be a market for them. The question, rather, is this: When will we have had enough of Sarah Palin, her brood, and their associates? Will they finally have had their say and - please, God - go away?
What have they done beyond that of any other average teenage couple in America? She got drunk and lost her virginity during a camping trip and became pregnant. Unfortunate, but it happens all the time, everyday, all over the country. The expectant couple were engaged for about three minutes before the cheating and accusations starting flying faster than a Kodiak can swipe the grin off of Sarah Palin's over-exposed face.
Since then, Johnston and Palin have become fixtures in the tabloids, on television, everywhere. Sarah has or had a reality show based on her home state; Bristol went on a strange and hypocritical "I've-learned-my-lesson" abstinence tour sponsored by Candies, those makers of fine sandals and pole-dancing shoes. Bristol brought home the bacon for little Tripp on that one, pulling in some 200K. Then she competed on Dancing with the Stars. She lately confirmed rumors of plastic surgery. Well, why not? It's a rite of passage.
And Levi? Levi had no problem showing off what Bristol lost her virginity to for all the world to see (or whoever wanted to) in Playgirl magazine. That's when he wasn't busy running for mayor of whatever town he calls home or fathering another child with another girl.
Occassionally we'd hear jabs being thrown at one from the other, and then the dust seemed to settle. But now both have books coming out. Hers is titled, "Not Afraid of Life: My Journey So Far," comes out this summer, and the title implies a sequel. Incidentally, the cover looks like bad country music album art.
His is called "Deer in the Headlights: My Life in Sarah Palin's Crosshairs." Far be for me to actually defend Sarah Palin, but really: Levi, don't you think you sort of deserve to be in her crosshairs?
For me, this boils down to three things.
1. The hillbilly throw-down continues, only on a grander scale. It's like Dynasty meets Jerry Springer. There's enough political intrigue, scandal and drama to make a Kennedy blush. Oh yeah, and remember Tripp? That little biological byproduct of their outdoor gropings? Acrimony, name-calling and public grievance-airing are all great lessons to teach their son.
2. What wisdom could two 20-somethings possibly impart to their readership?
Oh yeah. Don't forget to use a condom. And if mom gets famous - or infamous - enough, we can all ride the reality show train 'til the grizzlies come home. What's next for Bristol? Housewives of Juneau?
3. Sarah, take note: not all publicity is good if you're even toying with running for the White House. Do you really want the monkeys out of the cage? Because you seem fine with it. And that frightens me.
So the question isn't whether you'll run out and scoop up these page turners. Sadly, if the publishing industry has seen fit to print these stories, then there must be a market for them. The question, rather, is this: When will we have had enough of Sarah Palin, her brood, and their associates? Will they finally have had their say and - please, God - go away?
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Weiner's Flash of Stupidity
Our culture has become sadly predictable.
Technology - photo technology and methods of sending photos, specifically - have opened up new juvenile territory for all of us. It's possible to "show you mine if you show me yours," via cell phone, and in Anthony Weiner's case, scatter shot images of his not-so-hot bod to anyone who showed remote interest.
And what does he do once he's inevitably caught?
He plays the treatment card.
It's been done before, Anthony. It's boring.
And wrong on so many levels. He's just the latest in a long line of celebrities who seek refuge in the form of a rehab program when their habits got the better of them. Habits almost always do.
A few drinks too many, all caught on camera? A coke-fueled spiral into insanity? It's all great fodder for us.
The media - and worse, your wife - caught wind of your sophomorically illicit photos being tweeted? Seek treatment and all will be forgiven. Or at least it can buy you some time.
And in the meantime, we're all supposed to take the high road and respect the "patient's" privacy. You forfeited your privacy when you went public with your privates, and apparently coached someone on how to effectively lie about it. Now you want privacy? Really?
Treatment would be fine if his motives were a genuine attempt at cleaning up his life. But since he's already been caught coaching one of his lucky picture recipients on how to lie, I have a hard time believing his motives.
People go to treatment - most of 'em, anyway - to save their lives. And for what they're trying to do, they deserve our respect and support. And not all celebrities' motives are suspect. I wish them good luck, good health, God speed and happiness. There's a difference between wanting to get well and clean up your life, and pandering your way out of self-inflicted trouble.
Anthony Weiner is that pandering boob who got caught. And what's his "amends" going to be like? Something along the lines of Tiger Woods' phony apology to his wife? Maybe that would have meant more to Elin if the apology weren't televised in such staged glory.
It didn't strike me as genuinely remorseful, and I don't think Weiner's going to pull off anything better, or ever really have any credibility left with his wife, his constituents or his colleagues.
And last I heard, there isn't a 12-step program for stupidity or arrogance.
Technology - photo technology and methods of sending photos, specifically - have opened up new juvenile territory for all of us. It's possible to "show you mine if you show me yours," via cell phone, and in Anthony Weiner's case, scatter shot images of his not-so-hot bod to anyone who showed remote interest.
And what does he do once he's inevitably caught?
He plays the treatment card.
It's been done before, Anthony. It's boring.
And wrong on so many levels. He's just the latest in a long line of celebrities who seek refuge in the form of a rehab program when their habits got the better of them. Habits almost always do.
A few drinks too many, all caught on camera? A coke-fueled spiral into insanity? It's all great fodder for us.
The media - and worse, your wife - caught wind of your sophomorically illicit photos being tweeted? Seek treatment and all will be forgiven. Or at least it can buy you some time.
And in the meantime, we're all supposed to take the high road and respect the "patient's" privacy. You forfeited your privacy when you went public with your privates, and apparently coached someone on how to effectively lie about it. Now you want privacy? Really?
Treatment would be fine if his motives were a genuine attempt at cleaning up his life. But since he's already been caught coaching one of his lucky picture recipients on how to lie, I have a hard time believing his motives.
People go to treatment - most of 'em, anyway - to save their lives. And for what they're trying to do, they deserve our respect and support. And not all celebrities' motives are suspect. I wish them good luck, good health, God speed and happiness. There's a difference between wanting to get well and clean up your life, and pandering your way out of self-inflicted trouble.
Anthony Weiner is that pandering boob who got caught. And what's his "amends" going to be like? Something along the lines of Tiger Woods' phony apology to his wife? Maybe that would have meant more to Elin if the apology weren't televised in such staged glory.
It didn't strike me as genuinely remorseful, and I don't think Weiner's going to pull off anything better, or ever really have any credibility left with his wife, his constituents or his colleagues.
And last I heard, there isn't a 12-step program for stupidity or arrogance.
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