To the Manner Born A Most Proper Guide to Modern Civility

Chapter 1 Manners in Public Where to begin?: "good morning," "thank you," pushing, and shovingamong other things. Dreadful, dreadfullet's rave on like Archie Bunker, such fun! It's frightful out on the streets. Surely a new Ice Age of bad manners is coming? There are the litterbugs, the pushers and shovers, the bellowers, the swearersand that's just a start. What about this dreadful episode? The other day, Matt Lawson, forty- three, assistant financial director of a company that publishes trade magazines (Dumper Truck Today is a big seller), held the door open for a nice, middle-aged, vaguely spinsterish woman as she was coming out of a department store in Peterborough, a delightful dormitory town for London, and, would you believe it, she stalked straight through the door as if there was nobody there? Matt says this happens all the time, not just in Peterborough but also in London, where he works. "It would be nice if they said thank you," he says, "but what can you do? That's how people are." In the genteel cathedral city of Worcester, a similar thing happened. Some ladies failed to thank someone who had waited for them to come up a narrow stairs. In Manchester and London, standing in line for the bus has been abandoned in favor of a dog-eat-dog approach. Mrs. Gibbs, eighty-five, lives in Winchester; her husband, a solicitor, long dead. "I don't want to seem old-fashioned," she begins, "but I'm sorry to say, people are in such a hurry. All these mothers with one child in a stroller, several more rampaging about. They've got no time to take any notice of anybody. People hold doors open for me, that kind of thing. They can see I'm an old woman. But the other day I thanked someone and he grunted in this peculiar way as if to say, 'That's enough of that. I've done you a favor, now clear off!' Not terribly charming." And what about this? One of those van-type vehicles in which celebrities are conveyed was once seen parked outside a tailor's in Spitalfields, a very desirable newly yuppified district of London. A rumor, unconfirmed to this day, went round that David Beckham was being fitted for a suit. The van was assumed to be unoccupied except by the driver, but imagine the excitement when the back door slid open and a jeweled hand, clutching a Coke can and associated sandwich wrappings, emerged into view, sank graciously toward the gutter, and there deposited the can. Could this have been the hand of Posh, glamorously littering the streets? What shall we do with them? Horsewhipping? Boot camp? National Service? Well, it may not be the end of the world, but let's admit it, we've all got something, some discourtesy that occurs in public, which we find absolutely infuriating. It's no good resigning yourself, like Matt, or apologizing, like Mrs. Gibbs. You've got to do something, especially if you're one of the millions who complain about antisocial behavior. You can't expect the police to attend every time someone drops some litter or raises their voice. The good old British "keep your head down and don't make a fuss" approach has had its day. Not that it ever really was that. Nothing may have been said, but the accompanying withering looks were full strength and top-notch in quality. Actors would have given anything to achieve such silent power. But nobody today is going to take any notice of a look, however withering. If you hold a doBlaikie, Thomas is the author of 'To the Manner Born A Most Proper Guide to Modern Civility', published 2006 under ISBN 9780812976595 and ISBN 0812976592.