Old School Manners

A brief and casual encounter with a friend that I really am not that close to or know all that well made me truly appreciate what some have learned to ignore, or worse ridicule.


I have always had an intellectual appreciation for the customs, manner, etiquette or whatever you choose to classify what my English nanny taught me as a child. At the time, I was not very appreciative, except when bribed with tea cakes and scones. No five year old tom-boy wants to sit in a straight backed chair, with her ankles crossed (demurely, she would say) and juggle teacups and saucers destined to be spilled on the dress worn only for such occasions. Nor would those who know me well expect me to sit quietly smiling (“seen and not heard”) while the adults discussed the matters of the day; even at that age.

Perhaps it was this early implantation of a sense decorum that made my early encounters with Japanese culture so appealing. If there was anyone whose manners were stricter than a 1950’s British matriarch, it had to be Japanese women. Of course, in later years I discover that there were even more Asian cultures that elevated similar images of the serene and graceful side of the female nature. I also discovered that such reverence is a double-edged sword; the other edge being obedient subservience. It is true even in the more subtle cultures of the West, where that sword has dulled the fastest.

My encounter the other night was no philosophical analysis of society. It was a friendly discussion over dinner that bore none of the traits I mentioned above. And yet a gesture, a comment, and simple words that probably know one else noticed has brought a smile to me for days and spurred this commentary.

The days when men held a woman’s chair, helped her with her coat, or opened car doors for her on a regular basis are a distant memory for some of us; and almost a freak of nature for younger generations. There was a time when it was habit; even an unconscious reflex for older men. Today, if done at all, it is almost a grand gesture. It is often a calculated move to impress a date, or worse, done only because a man knows the woman he is with demands it at the price of civility.

As I was escorted to a seat for dinner, my chair was pulled out and held for me. No surprise, it was the restaurant’s manager. About the only time one can expect such courtesy is from the staff of nicer restaurants. I noticed it, but promptly forgot it once seated.

A few minutes later, I decided to remove my jacket. As if appearing magically, gentle and skilled hands were helping off with the jacket. Not only was the gesture a surprise, but also the grace with which it was done. And I remembered the night we met and went bar hopping, he did the same for me and the other women present. He has not abandoned the manners he was taught in exchange for disregard or laziness.

I noticed as he and the friend who had joined us were fully engaged in conversation, he continued to include me in the conversation with his smiles, gestures and comments. And I was more than comfortable to sit and just listen and watch, though I was the one who had broached the topic under discussion. As I was mentally acknowledging his conversational skills (which sometimes abandon me entirely), I realized that this same talent is why the last man to inspire me is so appealing

To keep from embarrassing either of them here, I will not mention names. But gentleman, your affable nature and well honed etiquette charm me whenever you are around. There is truly something impressive in your blend of old school ways with modern sensibility that I cannot help but admire. It matters not whether we are discussing business, delving into political histories, or just indulging in our mutual appreciation for good food and drink, I always enjoy your company.

(Hopefully, they recognize themselves in my reference.)