Is It too Sunny in Here for You?

Something has been bothering me lately. Hand-in-hand with the general decline of manners in our society, about which I have talked before, I have noticed that there is a growing prevalence among men and boys to violate one of the fundamental properties of gentlemanly behavior.

I am not talking about opening doors for ladies – for I am perfectly capable of opening a door myself, and if I reach it before you, sir, I will hold it open for you. Neither do I mean such silly affectations as lighting my cigarette or ordering for me at a restaurant. I don’t smoke, and am way too picky about my food to allow anyone else to presume to know what I crave.

Let me state it categorically: Gentlemen do not wear hats indoors. Now, you may think that I am picking on these poor hapless men and boys. I have even had arguments with my own nephews over this issue. They offer the same tired defense as others have tried. “Times have changed,” they say. “No one cares about that stuff anymore,” they declare. “It’s ok if we wear baseball caps,” they whine, and it is here that their voices take on that certain note of uncertainty that I always hear.

How many times have I heard that ‘times have changed?’ “Not that old chestnut,” I think to myself and mentally roll my eyes. The ‘times’ do not excuse rudeness. Yes, society is evolving. It always will be, and that is good. However, that does not mean we should abandon our niceties, for they are what makes life pleasant for all. As I have said before in my posts, I assure you, people care. I care, and if I do, there are many others who do too.

I realize that gentlemen hardly ever wear dress hats anymore. Fedoras or bowlers have gone the way of morning coats and spats. What you see now are mostly baseball caps and “trucker” hats. The style of hat has no bearing on this etiquette rule. Baseball caps are not intrinsically exempt. There is nothing so unique about a ball cap that makes it suitable for indoor use. Baseball caps are made to be worn during baseball games. It is even conceivable to wear them for other sporting venues, and to shade your eyes when outside in the sun or rain. I give you enthusiastic permission to wear them backwards, sideways, or jauntily askew. I am all for individual expression in your dress and demeanor. However, when you step indoors, please remove them. I’m not asking you hold them in your hand for the duration. They are usually small and pliable enough to fold them up and put them in your pocket. Believe me, they won’t get damaged.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been in a restaurant or the mall, and seen several young men wearing their hats. I’m convinced the thought of removing the hat never crosses their minds. Last week, at the doctor’s office, there were at least 4 in the waiting room – one father/son combination. Clearly the sins of the fathers are being passed on to the next oblivious generation.

We would like to see your faces when we talk to you. Besides, the longer you wear your hat, the worse your hat-hair will be. No one wants that! Who knows more about it? I do.

I Know More About It than You Do

My friends have been after me for a while to do a blog. In my little circle of women friends, I seem to be the person they go to with questions about etiquette. They call me “Ms. Manners.” So I’ve decided to share my expertise with the world. I don’t claim to be Judith Martin, or Emily Post. I hope everyone will refer to her own copy of their illustrious books for answers to the big questions. I know my three-inch thick copy is well-thumbed, as I’m sure yours is. But there are some issues I’d like to speak to.

However, since I’m not one-dimensional, I’m not going to limit it to just manners. There are lots of other standards I’d like to raise. (Play-on-words intended.) I notice lots of things. Bad driving, sloppy fashion mistakes, speaking incorrectly, stupid movie plots, male-chauvinist pigs. You know what I mean.

It seems like everyday I notice something that someone does wrong. I’m going to take this space to show you your mistakes. Don’t worry, I won’t name names, unless you want me to. I know I was thrilled the first time Steph (oops, I named her) referred to me in her blog. (see stephaniesays.net). Steph writes funny stories about her life. I first appear in the one called “Downtown Gainesville on a Monday Night.” My other friend Lynn (oops, there I go again) has one at penlovespaper.blogspot.com. Lynn is an amazing crafter and her blog always astounds me. Then there’s Alisa’s (damn it, I can’t seem to shake this habit.) I am very envious of the title she chose: everydayfeminist.com. I can only hope that my blog turns out half as good as theirs.

Now, before you start ranting at me, I realize that you’re going to rant at me. I fully expect to have blistering responses to my freely given constructive advice. I know you don’t like it when I point out your short-comings. But somebody has to, so I’ve decided that it will be me. Go ahead, flame me. It’s ok. I know you feel the need to blame someone. I will calmly pat you on the shoulder, and tell you it will all be ok. As long as you stop doing what’s offending your fellow earthlings, that is.

You just have to remember, I know more about it than you do.