Category: Manners

A Matter Of Privacy

Manners

This silly situation got me thinking — it’s about a mother rifling through her 17-year-old daughter’s handbag, and finding the morning-after pill — all about the whole topic of privacy and personal space.

Am I the only man in the world who, if his wife asks hims to “get it out of my purse”, just hands her the bag to get whatever it is out for herself?

If ever there’s an article which exemplifies the concept of “private space”, it’s a woman’s handbag.  When I’m asked why I didn’t just look in the bag, I usually make a joke of it, saying things like:  “There’s things with teeth in there!”

It’s not that I’m afraid of what I’ll find in there — I doubt very much whether there’s anything in there that could upset me — but it really is a concern for my wife’s privacy.

Everyone needs a private space.  It’s not necessarily a space that might harbor something that the owner doesn’t want anyone else to see, although it very well might be;  but there’s a concept involved which I think should be respected at all costs.

There’s another old saying that covers this:  if you invade someone’s privacy, don’t be shocked or angered by what you may find.

My old friend Patterson once told me how his wife was always asking him, “What are you thinking about?”  and he, quite understandably, took umbrage at her impertinence.  “For fuck’s sake,” he expostulated to me, “are there no parts of my life that she doesn’t want to examine or look over?”  Anyway, the next time she asked him that intrusive question, his response was epic:  “I was just thinking about how I’d spend the insurance money if you died.”  And when she got upset, his response was equally cutting:  “Do you just want me to lie to you?”  End of discussion, and much later, end of marriage (his second or third, I don’t remember).

I remember once reading about a guy who got pissed off when he discovered his wife going over his workshop, opening cupboards and looking into his toolbox.  And when he confronted her — “What the fuck did you think you’d find?” — his wife couldn’t understand his anger, because she had no clue about how men want their privacy kept sacrosanct.

Here’s the thing.  We men are evil fuckers.  In every man, there’s a quiet, secret space which harbors impure thoughts, impure activities and pathological impulses.  Sometimes, to be sure, those secret spaces include nefarious activities:  infidelity, criminality, shameful behavior, whatever.  Whether it’s a phone, a hiding place or a secret credit card / bank account, it doesn’t matter;  they exist.

The point is that even if that secret space doesn’t involve something nefarious, it’s still private and we will guard it zealously.  Think of it as a personal manifestation of the Constitution’s Fourteenth Amendment:  the right to privacy being the ability of an individual to keep their personal information and private life out of the public domain.  And in this case, “public” doesn’t just mean “the public”;  it means everyone else in the fucking world, including wives, children and parents.

So yeah, our concerned mother in the above article was being snoopy — even though I think she had every right to be concerned about her not-yet-adult daughter — but it’s quite understandable that her daughter would feel utterly betrayed by the invasion of her privacy, nevertheless.

You Asked For It

Feminazis, Manners

Here’s one that could cause a Schadenböner:

A clip shared on TikTok  has prompted a battle of the sexes as increasing numbers of women argue men should give up their seats on public transport so they can sit down instead.

The video, which has been liked more than 1.4 million times, was filmed on TfL’s Central line and shows a whole row of men sitting down on the tube, while a row of women are standing in the aisle and holding on to poles.

[Another] user posted a clip that also showed a whole row of seats taken up by men on a Jubilee line train, while she and her other female friends stood on the side.

She wrote in text over the video: ‘Men used to go to war for us and now we can’t even get a man to let us sit down on the train.’

My own feelings on this are quite explicit.  I always stand up and offer my seat to a woman — always have, always will.  It’s how I was brought up.

However: I was also brought up during a time when women were ladylike, gracious and always grateful when a man surrendered his seat to her.  It was an acknowledgement of manners, rather than a matter of divine right.

However, young men have been brought up today in a time when men are savagely browbeaten and instilled with the mantra that women are not the “weaker sex”, are equal to men in every respect (even though they often aren’t), and equality reigns supreme.  And their attitudes reflect that:

One TikToker said he would only offer his seat to pregnant women or elderly people. ‘You equal woman can stand up just like I would if there were no seats,’ he added.

Another wrote: ‘Full grown adults expecting other full grown adults to give them a seat for no reason.’

Completely understandable.

So you womyns won’t get any privileges just because you’re a woman, then, because that would be sexist.

You feministicals wanted to live in this world, so STFU when it’s not always to your advantage.

And I apologize to my long-suffering Lady Readers, none of whom (I suspect) are women like the above womyns, would always be properly appreciative of the occasional gentlemanly gesture, and might indeed be even more dismissive of the Modern Womyns than I am.

Missing: Self-Respect

Clothing, Grooming, Manners

Dalrymple talks about how everyone’s all concerned about self-esteem, but completely lacking in self-respect.

Not only do people fail to make the most of themselves, they seem determined to make the worst of themselves, as if they were setting a challenge to others not to remark on them or pass a judgment about the way they look.

Actually, it’s worse than that. People are so caught up in their self-esteem that they think it’s more important than self-respect — in other words, that how they feel about themselves is more important than how others feel about them, and missing the point that both are important.

T.D. talks about clothing:

In England, fat young women (of whom there are lamentably many) squeeze themselves into unbecomingly tight costumes, like toothpaste into a tube. It is as if they were intimidating you into not noticing how hideous they look.

Well, yes;  it’s the classic mark of the narcissist.  And that attitude is just as prevalent in these here United States.

Look, I understand all that:  goths, hippies, biker gangs, Mods ‘n Rockers (yeah, I’m dating myself badly here) and all the so-called fashion trends that bedevil every generation.

All of them, however, have one thing in common:  they denote that the wearers are societal misfits.

Since I passed the age of adolescence, where such nonsense was important, I’ve always had one or the other of these self-imposed restraints on myself whenever I leave the house:  would my Mom / wife / grandfather be ashamed to be seen in public with me, dressed as I am? 

If the answer is even marginally “yes”, I change my outfit.

And quite frankly, if there’s anyone who doesn’t give a rat’s ass what anyone thinks of me, that would be me.  But I care, deeply, about what my close family and -friends think of me, and that reflects itself in many aspects of not only my dress but also in my behavior.

Alone with my male buddies, I’m a total lout.  In polite company, I’m a different person altogether.

It is the habit of a lifetime, drilled into me by parents, boarding school, the army and wives;  and frankly, I’m too old to change my ways now.

In a business setting, for example, I’m always well-dressed (suit, tie, polished shoes and all that) and likewise groomed (neat hair, trimmed beard, clean-shaven and nice-smelling).

So when I go to a company and see a bunch of men with scraggly beards, clothing which looks like they were slept in and with body odor to gag a vulture, I honestly don’t care about their self-esteem;  I just find them repulsive — and no matter what, I can’t take them seriously.

Judgmental?  You bet your fucking life I am.

Table Manners Matter

Manners

Over at the DM, Tom Utley talks about table manners, and the apparent disdain with which the foul Gen Z twerps regard them.

If we’re to believe a poll out this week, however, old-fashioned table manners will soon be consigned to history. A ­survey of 2,000 teenagers and adults found that 60 per cent of those aged 12 to 27 — known as Generation Z — think table manners in general are no longer important.

More than three-quarters of them, finds Censuswide, say they don’t care about elbows on the table, while more than half think it doesn’t matter which way round a knife and fork are held.

I have a rather jaundiced view of the whole thing, because I’ve found that all manners — never mind just  those at the table — seem to have taken flight and disappeared from modern life.  And while the article is Brit-specific, it’s certainly true in the U.S. as well, and both New Wife and I continue to throw up our hands in horror when we encounter such societal contretemps.

But as for table manners:  our kids (her two and my three) have all been indoctrinated in the matter, and I’m pleased to note that they’ve passed on that training to their other halves and kids.

I remember well the first time I noticed how well-mannered my kids were, several years ago.  The occasion was afternoon tea in the St. James Room at Fortnum & Mason, where impeccably-dressed waiters and waitresses brought us plate upon plate of foods (sandwiches, and then scones with jams and clotted cream) and of course, pots and pots of F&M’s delicious Royal Blend tea.  (It’s still the Son&Heir’s favorite, and it’s a staple birthday present choice.)  Anyway, the kids showed impeccable table manners, and of course we the parents were hugely gratified that all our efforts had not been in vain, and that we were not embarrassed by any loutish and gross behavior.  (The same was evident when New Wife and I were treated to afternoon tea at the Ritz by her two sons, a few years back:  exquisite table manners all round.)

I have a visceral reaction to someone with terrible table manners:  I finish the meal as quickly as possible, and make a point of never eating with that person ever again.  When someone gobbles down their food like a baboon, and speaks with a mouth full of food, I actually feel nauseated and try not to look at them at all.

I’m somewhat indifferent to the American style of eating, whereby one cuts the food into small pieces and then transfers the fork to the right hand to spear it.  (It’s the way children eat their food, back where I come from, but it’s a method that is firmly discouraged once they reach the age of seven or eight and have developed the dexterity to eat properly, i.e. with the fork in the left hand and the knife in the right.)

Living here in Murka, I’ve always been keenly aware that I’m the “guest”, so to speak, and that if that’s the cultural norm, then manners preclude me trying to change it in others.  That doesn’t mean that I’ve changed my eating style, of course, and when American table companions point out my “British” style of knife-and-fork usage, I just shrug and say, “South Africa was still a British colony when I was born, and that’s one of the little legacies thereof.”  To change the way I eat is unthinkable.

The whole point of good table manners is respect for the feelings of others — hell, that’s the point of good manners in toto, and not just at the table;  and I find it amusing that in these times, when everyone has to tiptoe around the feelings of others so circumspectly, that the most important of these is no longer de rigueur.

Anyway, I’m just glad that I’m unlikely to be exposed to the boorish table manners of the child-like Gen Z people, because to be honest, I have no interest in any kind of intercourse with them at all, let alone at the table.  And if exposed to them in public (e.g. in a restaurant), I’ll just put on metaphorical blinkers and try to ignore them — unless it all gets too much, and I’ll flay them with scorn and contempt, loudly if in the mood.

As Gen Z seems to be, as a whole, a bunch of tender snowflakes, I don’t think I’ll be in any danger.

Bad Behavior

Manners, Men & Women

Back when I was still on the dating scene (shortly after someone discovered fire), I was thankfully spared the prospect of my date behaving badly by being glued to her cell phone during the meal.   (Back then, I didn’t even have a landline phone because the phone company — in South Africa, the Post Office — had a three-month backlog on new home phone installations.)

However, that was then and this is now.  Here’s what one guy did when faced with such a situation:

A man has caused a debate after admitting to walking out on a date without paying his portion of an $80 bill because his potential love interest was ‘constantly on her phone’. The man, who is from a major US city, revealed he met up with the woman after matching on a dating app. The pair hit it off and decided to meet in person.

The man was quick to brand the woman as a ‘vapid moral monstrosity’ who had the ‘attention span of a gnat’, after she spent a whole five minutes ferociously texting as they waited for their food.

When they finally began to chat she was quick to, yet again, start answering her ‘buzzing’ phone . The man attempted to make a few hints to his date about her antisocial behavior by joking and even saying he would throw the phone out of the window if it continued. However, his incessant hints fell on deaf ears as her eyes continued to be glued to her phone screen.

An appetizer and two drinks later, the man realized he was miserable and there was no possible way to turn this date around. He headed to the toilet, promising himself that if her eyes were still locked on her phone screen, then he would be making a swift exit out of the door.

When he came out to find her eyes fixed fixed on the screen, he validated that promise by quickly leaving. He detailed: “I looked the other way and there was a service door open behind the kitchen. I turned right instead of left and exited into the sweet, sweet air of freedom.”

And here’s the kicker:

It was only 30 minutes after he had left that the date even realized his absence, texting him: “Did you leave?”

Good for him.  I’m even glad that she got stuck with the tab, because having such appalling manners deserves to be punished.

I don’t even know why there would be a “debate” on the topic.

Flaunting It

Beauty, Clothing, Manners

It’s a well-known fact that I am somewhat conservative in my outlook [chorus of “No, Kim… not you!], but not really when it comes to women’s clothing.  Having come of age during the late 1960s and 1970s, I kinda like it when women show off their bodies (allowing for the Lizzo Exception, of course).

However, this one made me stop in my tracks:

Granted, she’s another one of those Brit Celeb/Actresses/Houris [some overlap]  but at least she’s apparently married to the father, so there’s that.  But I still feel a little… uncomfortable? looking at that display.

Now I’m not one of those “cover up everything because pregnancy is somehow shameful” people — sheesh, that went out with the Victorians — and I recall seeing some awfully-sexy pregnant women in Chile who were not at all shy about wearing tight little mini-dresses and high heels as they strutted their stuff around downtown Santiago.  I love the whole thing about pregnant women, too;  I think it’s glorious.

Still, I can’t help feeling that the above is a little too ostentatious or even vulgar.  Can we not say that women need to be a little more ladylike about the whole thing?

I know, I know:

“Kim, women show off their tummies in bikinis and midriff tops all the time — and you’re a serial offender when it comes to posting those pics, you dirty old bastard.  So why should it be any different when they’re pregnant?”

Because it IS different.

I welcome comments on the topic.