Public Civility

Slurp, sluuurp, sluuuurp emanates from the other side of the table. “Micah, you are only allowed two slurps and that was three.”

“Who makes up these rules?” gurgles the mouth at the end of the straw.

“Emily Post.”

“Why?”

“So parents can enjoy a quiet meal.”

“We’ll I think it’s stupid.”

“Can you imagine how loud a meal would be if everybody slurped?”

“I still think it’s stupid. Why do I need to know this stuff?”

I don’t know if you have ever had a conversation like this at your house but similar conversations take place every week at our house and I am glad they do. It shows that we have yet not given up on manners.

I confess I didn’t appreciate some of my lessons when I was being instructed but I am now thankful for my parents’ instruction and for the free classes in etiquette given me by Miss Eaves. During the summer of 1963 I had a private tutor, former English teacher and dining room hostess, Miss Eaves.

I was working away from home as a lifeguard at a conference center. Of all the plans I had for the summer none included private instruction in table manners. However, I did plan to eat well that summer and that is how I came in contact with Miss Eaves. She was in charge of the dining room.

After a few practical jokes at the supper table I found myself seated next to guess who? She made it her goal that summer not only to keep me in line but also to show me how to sit at a table and eat like a gentleman.

I learned how to butter bread (there is a proper way to do this). I learned how to sit up straight. I learned that some behavior is not appropriate at a table.

Do I continue to practice all I learned that summer? No, but I can eat a meal without people at the next table hearing me chew. When I finish a drink no one in the next room knows I have reached the bottom of the glass.

To echo my son though, I can ask, “Is it really that important?”

My answer is, “Manners are one of the things that distinguish us from animals.”
As manners go so goes society.

When I visit new mothers I often remind them they have been given a great responsibility. They hold in their hands an uncivilized, illiterate, unspeaking creature and it is the job of mothers and fathers to teach that child to walk, talk, speak and adjust to society. We are never more than one generation away from barbarianism.

I can, at least, wonder would happen to society if one generation decided to skip the lessons on table manners. I, for one, would prefer to stay at home to eat. It would be much quieter there; at least that is what I am working on right now.