I don't need any kids to get off my lawn today. The problem is their parents.
Tonight was the fifth-grader's choir concert, and it was marred by a mountain of manners mishaps. Although-- I'm starting to think the problem is me. If everybody is doing the stuff that sets my teeth on edge, then clearly my standards are not shared standards.
This is puzzling to me, you guys. If the principal says, "Please turn your cell phones to vibrate," and your phone goes off 5 minutes later as the kids are performing, that's not an outrageous oversight. Sometimes phones make weird noises when you don't expect them to -- no big deal. But if you reply to the text and then it makes the same sound again five minutes later, that raises my eyebrows. And if it keeps making noise every few minutes all through the concert, that seems to me like a situation where you ought to step outside.
It did not seem like an ought-to-step-outside situation to the woman sitting next to me.
I've known for years that people have different ideas about which kinds of conversations are okay in which venues. I still hate to go to the movies and listen to commentary from nearby adults. (If you are there with a small child who needs a quick explanation or reassurance, then by all means explain and reassure.) My thoughts about movie manners are that you shouldn't disturb other viewers with assertions like "That was cute!" and predictions like "I bet what's going to happen next is that..." But you don't have to spend much time in movie theaters, or choir concerts, to see that my thoughts about manners are far from universal.
In addition to the woman on my right whose phone kept dinging, I was frustrated because the family behind me kept talking all the way through the performance. "Did you see that?" "Oh, yes, I liked that song." "What did that kid say?" In my mental Politeness Rulebook this is about as courteous as picking your nose at a wedding, but they were far from alone. I think my Politeness Rulebook is an artifact of the last millennium, like a yellowing Emily Post manual replete with guidance on how to address your snail-mail letters to your senator vs. your snail-mail letters to your archbishop, but I am not sure that I really want to buy the revised version.
The last vexing thing was the phones. I know I am in a dwindling minority on this one, but when I am sitting in a dark room watching a performance, I find the glowing screens distracting. I do not know who could possibly want to watch all the video that was recorded at this concert. (It was actually pretty painful viewing it live, because the kids couldn't hear the recorded accompaniment (thanks, chatty parents!) and they were consistently off.) Apparently, though, someone does. Some days I just want to seize the world by the scruff of the neck and say, "People of the 21st century! BE where you ARE! Put DOWN your PHONES and LIVE your life instead of INSTAGRAMMING it." (Probably someone would put that kind of crazy talk on YouTube, where it would spark a comments war between the get-off-my-lawn folks and the Instagram folks.) At the ballet recital last month there was a kid in the row in front of me who pulled out a phone halfway through the performance. He looked to be about 11, and he was done watching the girls twirl on stage. With the phone at arm's length, fully visible to everyone nearby, he started playing a video game in which virtual boxers were punching each other. I waited for his parents to say something; they did not. I leaned forward, and in a quiet but firm voice I said, "Excuse me, I am finding that extremely distracting. Could you put it away now, please?"
This request, I am certain, plopped me right onto somebody else's list of rude parents. (But it worked.) Discuss: is the world going downhill, or is the world going downhill? Do these parents and their kids need to get off your lawn today, or do you have a friendly welcoming sort of lawn? What's in your personal Politeness Rulebook that seems archaic to the rest of the world?
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