The manners we were taught versus'nowadays'

[vannin]

Lately, and a sign of age probably, I have been thinking about manners and politeness generally.
Strangely enough, I was not reaching the conclusion that the young people are getting worse, but that I am constantly seeing examples of how helpful and well-mannered young people are.

It may be because they have a warm reaction to my white hair, but for years while I have regularly gone out on the train and tube, seats have been vacated for me. In the town, shop doors are held open for me, and sometimes I drop things which are picked up and handed to me with a smile. It is often people under 30 both male and female obviously 'well-brought-up'.

However , today I was left shaken by a nasty old man in Boots Chemist. Older than me, and yes! I realise he might be suffering any kind of illness. He was in discussion with a sales assistant, both of them standing in a narrow aisle where I wanted to look at the display. Now while I have an arm in plaster,I am only getting back into shopping (cautiously and with lack of confidence) so I stood aside rather than say excuse me, so they could shift a few inches.

But they didn't move and he shouted at me 'All right, get a move on instead of dithering there like an idiot.' I was flabbergasted, but out of sheer habit, thanked him, (showed that I was nursing my bad side with my good arm) then said 'You are extremely rude' and he shouted 'Blah blah blah' and marched away. The assistant said she was sorry that had happened.
It left me musing on what a shocking example he set, while my normal response has always been to 'give way' to anyone older than myself. My favourable thoughts on the younger generation/s have gone up more notches, especially when I arrived home and the postman brought a surprise package from 11 year-old Charlie (it's not my birthday) to cheer me up!

[vannin]

Confession time! There was an irrational moment when I saw red and badly wanted to hit him!

[ciderman_nz]

That made me think Vannin! I remember when we were in Turkey, I held open the door for a woman approaching and I was very surprised when she said (in a very English voice) "I'm quite capable of opening a bloody door myself!" as she stomped past me.
A couple of years ago my U3A writing group had manners as a topic, so I thought I would inflict that on you all! :-)

Manners
The winter of 1962/3 in Britain was severe. Our arrival in London just before Christmas was just what Santa Claus would have wanted. Snow was everywhere and the roads were being salted to melt the ice which made motoring very hazardous and very slow. We had only just acquired our upstairs flat in the heavily built up area of Kilburn, where what was once a dignified residence had been remodelled into about eight ‘bed-sits’, mostly inhabited by young people like ourselves. Two big rooms, one a bedroom and one everything else including a kitchen and a shared bathroom with two other flats and this completed our new home on the first floor. The flat was furnished and with it’s bay window overlooking the road below , where we sometimes sat with a coffee or tea, looking out at the passing parade of people and vehicles. My flatmate and I had recently obtained jobs but mine started a few days after his and on his first day I sat in the window watching as he left for work. The concrete was icy and I saw Tony slip , slide then fall on his back and slide slowly out past the front gate and out onto the pavement almost into the path of a bowler hatted, briefcase carrying gentleman of tall and thin proportions. I was astonished to see this gentleman lift his leg to step carefully over Tony and proceed on his way. Was this the English way? Perhaps he thought he might be drunk, even though it was 8am. One thing was for sure, he was not unaware of his presence, he had stepped so carefully over Tony. I was suddenly aware that Tony was watching me as I stared out of the window and we both raised our hands with a deeply puzzled look on our faces.
This little tableau playing out in my head many years later made me think of manners and how we perceive them. Perhaps if my friend had asked for assistance he would have received it but without a request maybe it would be considered an invasion of privacy? When I worked in an Oxford St photographic studio, it was a requirement that the owner was always referred to as “sir” or “Mr Bennett”, (no relation just happened to have the same surname as me.) I had to adjust to this as I was very much used to addressing my employers in New Zealand as “Clarrie” or “Marsden” or “Bob” on a very much more even social footing.
As a child, I remember having to restrain myself when I wanted to blurt out something, until the adults had finished speaking. Interruption was not an option for me and this carried on, I now realise, to my own children. In the midst of setting up Vidals in Hastings, I was surrounded by builders and painters discussing some seemingly important topic as my 7 year old son kept whispering loudly “Dad!” “Dad!”
“Stephen, wait!” I snarled at him! “But Dad!..” “Don’t interrupt Stephen!” “Susan is hurt!” he finally shouted at me. I then discovered that the aforementioned Susan, his older sister, had indeed, broken her arm! This resulted in a rapid trip to hospital where we were seen by a young doctor in jandals and a ‘What-me-Worry’ T shirt, who told us we must come back for an X-Ray to see if it was broken, to which I responded somewhat curtly, “Of course it’s broken! It’s got a bloody extra bend in it!”
To me, manners is also involved in not swearing. I suppose that has something to do with what I was taught as a child. I can honestly say that the only time I ever heard my father swear was when he didn’t know I was there and he was in the navy, so he did know ALL the words! He also instructed me to refer to his senior officers as “Sir”, which I found hard to do although why I know not, as at school we always had to call the teachers ‘Sir’ and stand up when they entered the room. At boarding school we were very strictly instructed in manners. How to be polite in our conversations without losing the ability to disagree or contest whatever the other person was putting forward. We actually had formal lessons in this, which I still feel have been useful throughout my life in negotiating various points of view, without causing rancour or upsetting people. I sometimes think that world leaders would have benefited from such a course.
Manners help to make the social structures less abrasive and although sometimes appearing to be pedantic, they do have a useful purpose.

[vannin]

Michael, I have read this and been nodding at most paragraphs. Not for the first time, I remember similarities because 'that made me think'!
Firstly, that woman you described was typical of the feminists who were influenced by Germaine Greer, and many a chap felt despair after being snubbed for holding open a door. A joke went round, and the gist was. 'A man held open a door for a woman and she, looking shocked, said 'thank you' . He was so shocked, he fainted.' Believe me, I would have appreciated you being such a gent!

Then 1962-63, shortly before you and I did not meet in Oxford St. I started the winter by commuting daily to the job in Selfridges W.1.from deepest Bucks, and one morning, suffered the very same painful departure as Tony, when starting at 7 a.m. No other pedestrians in sight though!! The bowler-hatted person you describe fits a despicable MP here named Jacob Rees-Mogg, could have been his ancestor! By January, I'd had enough commuting and went flat-sharing, first in Paddington. I was frequently at parties in colleagues flats in Kilburn!! Where were you?

The Navy!! In the past few years, I came to know a former Naval Chaplain who had completed his twenty-odd years and was back in ordinary parish work. He told us he knew 'all the words' and we believed him. His homilies were mostly anecdotes which I miss now he is in eternal sky-ship.
The nuns with whom I spent ten unfortunate years would have been nonplussed by his honesty.

My daughter can be full of the graciousness of manners required when interviewing every type of person including rowdy, randy footballers! The result of showing unnatural sweetness and light to them, was that it rebounded on whoever was at home, as I can testify. However motherhood changed things so her 11-year-old boy has beautiful manners, and I doubt she goes snarling in front of him. I used to think an anger management course was required but her wisdom set-in over the years.
Once again, Michael, it is good to read your memories which I thank you for sharing. Keep in touch!

[dita]

I read the above with much interest - Ciderman & Vannin, the trouble is I cannot recall your descriptions of the people you were familiar with as I have lived in the countryside all my life and only very rarely would I see anyone who resembled a city person. Having said that - I have lived in the city on occasions as regarding work and find it is like living in a different world.
Like Ciderman said manners is, and has always been something that we have always recalled at sometime or another, also to me-- swearing- my Dad would not allow this and would quickly threaten me with his leather belt if he heard me using the mildest of swear words, now it is openly used on TV even the most disgusting of language. I live in such a small village 43 houses, and not too many young folk but most do respect and look after us older generation when its needed.

[vannin]

Dita, I think I have seen the best of both worlds but long ago. I was 17 when I went to London in the early sixties. and enjoyed my five years till I returned to Bucks. But in childhood, the few years I spent in Ireland made me entirely a country girl and seemed like Paradise in my eyes, as did all the holidays later when I returned there. My grandparents farm where I stayed was quite remote and neighbours' on one side were nearly a quarter of a mile away. Everyone looked out for everyone. Where I have lived now for 54 years is neither one thing nor the other. My nearest town, like so many now, has a rundown look, but in the 60s to 80s, it was so thriving and the High St had all you could wish for. The green belt which used to surround the town has gradually been developed and what used to be fine landscape views from here, becoming built on - the problem is the new buildings are not affordable, although such promises were made. I wouldn't mind if struggling young families could afford the new housing which is so desperately needed.

[Andere Richtingen]

Been a bit busy and came late to this thread but thought i might as well stick my oar in anyway!

Vannin, I can sympathize over the horrible man in Boots. Whatever his problem or problems might be, his attitude is inexcusable. If you're anything like me, such encounters tend to leave you flummoxed and wondering, "is it me? Was it something I did?" And, of course, it wasn't you at all.

Over the years, I've found my best way of dealing with such people is to simply stare them down and say, loudly but politely, "tell me - were you born obnoxious or have you had to practise?". I daresay that one day, i'll get smacked in the mouth for it but, generally, there's no answer - although it did once produce a mumbled, "sorry".

Honestly, i think age has no bearing on manners. Good manners and politeness are contingent partly on upbringing and partly on the kind of person you are. If you are by nature a selfish, inconsiderate oik then those tendencies will rise to the top no matter how hard your parents try!

We brought our child up in the same way OH and i were both brought up and, mostly, it's worked. She's generally thoughtful, helpful and considerate of others and knows when to say please and thank you. I do remember being very taken aback when Daughter was around 6 or 7 and a woman congratulated me on having such a well mannered child. This was because, as Daughter and i were leaving a shop, Daughter held the door and stood back for this woman to enter. Just everyday courtesy that she'd picked up from OH and I; it never occurred to me that it was in any way remarkable.

Some time ago, OH stumbled while getting off a bus. He was walked home by the two lads who helped him up - about 17 or 18 and just wanting to be sure he was OK. When i tripped on my way into the deli last winter, i think all the people who rushed to assist me were probably older than me and yet one of the worst displays of ill manners i ever saw was during a bus driver's strike in the 1980s when a group of 60 & 70 plus people were pushing and shoving younger people out of the way to board the bus when it arrived. One woman actually whacked a man in his 20s across the ankle with her stick so she could get ahead of him. Not nice!

A former work colleague can go one better than Vannin and Ciderman's friend in the stepping-over stakes. Years ago, in the crowd waiting to board a late arriving train at Liverpool Street, she tripped {or was possibly pushed} and went sprawling on her face. Several kind people stopped to help her up and, fortunately, she wasn't badly hurt only bruised and shaken. She was even more shaken after she got home and took off her suede coat and saw a huge, man sized footprint on the back of it.