Wednesday, November 21, 2018

Now Thank We All The Time

Mizzable, unpraised child
I remember reading that there was an island nation whose people were affronted if you said "Thank you" to them. To their way of thinking, expressions of gratitude felt like insults. Why wouldn't they be kind and helpful? Why would anyone suggest otherwise?

I think this kind of cultural difference is in play now between the generations here. Someone recently commented on the propriety of food servers giving their names and asking their customers for theirs. I said no server has ever asked me my name and I hope they never do. Which, I will admit now, sounds snippy.

"Why?" came the simple query back. "What would that mean to you, if your server asked your name?"

I can't explain it. At least, I can't explain it without your concluding I'm an asshole. I don't want to know my server's name. I don't know why they should know mine. I like a friendly exchange but this isn't that kind of relationship.

"Oh," came the answer, which I interpreted to mean: you're an asshole. I mean, I even sounded like one to myself. At least, my being an asshole was one possible explanation.

There's an awful lot of niceness going on all the time in the younger generation and a lot of it rubs me the wrong way. Which pretty much makes me an asshole, and that rubs me the wrong way. All the marketing is so damned adorable. I'm getting boxes of food from an outfit called Imperfect Produce and they can't communicate without being cute as all get-out. I log into my account just to ask for yams or something and the page comes up in pink and flowers and says Welcome back, Mary! You look nice today!

Eww.

This is all wrong. I look nice today? Well, yeah. But how do you know that? You don't know that. You're just guessing. And I'll bet you say that to all the people on the other side of the internet from you.

I just called some outfit on the phone and the answering robot explained, while redirecting my call, that our communication might be recorded so "our listening experts can learn how to be even more awesome."

Eww.

Everyone means well--grossly, overbearingly well--but this doesn't sit right with me. It's all a matter of upbringing, I think. I do not remember a time I was praised as a child, at least by my parents. My sister reported that no matter what I produced in the way of artwork, for instance, it was always accepted by my folks as just a regular, day-to-day offering. Nothing special. "That's nice, honey," maybe. To this day overt praise embarrasses me, at least in person. I get all squirmy.

I'm led to understand, though, that this is not the normal way of going about things now, and kids are praised lavishly for any behavior this side of sociopathy. And maybe beyond ("People don't like it when you hit them, Heather, but awesome left hook"). I can't help but think that has to feel false and counterfeit to them, but maybe it doesn't. Maybe if that's what you're used to, you'd feel bereft and ashamed without it. I don't know.

Love is a whole other thing. There's no limit to that. Can't give a kid too much of that. Bring it on. But praise? Eww.

And when everything you do is awesome, there's no more Up. There's nowhere to go.

46 comments:

  1. I've recently read a book that touches on this subject. It's called Selfie: How We Became So Self-Involved and What It's Doing To Us by Will Storr. All this has been in motion for a VERY long time. It started with our nation consisting of "individuals" instead of "community." Then came the "do your own thing" era. Then came the self-esteem movement, and praising kids for every tiny "achievement" (even if it was just showing up.) It was fascinating reading, and I highly recommend it to anyone who wonders how we became so fucked-up as a nation.

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    1. I won't believe it all unless it involves Charles Koch, and it wouldn't surprise me a bit if it did.

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    2. Oh great. Another book to avoid like the plague because I honestly don't want to think any worse of this country than I already do.

      My people just got here in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. They all through Canada, some spent a ton of years there while the others just hopped on over the border. All of them felt unwanted. At least the Canadians stuck together when they got here so I knew community before I had a clue about individuality. That's served me very well.

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  2. 30 or so years ago, husband and I went on a cruise ship from Ft. Lauderdale to the Bahamas. Aside from the violent, rainy, endless weather, the cramped, beat-up cabin that felt like a misused dorm room, the vomiting passengers and the tossing waves, we remember the ickiness of seeing many lady passengers passionately hugging their waiters, from whom they would soon be parted forever, after an apparently intense on-board relationship lasting several days. Some of the ladies were weeping; they doubled up on the grinning employees in an awkward menage a trois, right at the dinner table. Something had happened between them and the staff that bewildered us. But, we had been more or less self-absorbed (it was our sad honeymoon, after all) and we were already cranky, cabin-fevered and more than ready to debark.

    Maybe that was unkind; who are we, anyway, to disparage their love, or diminish their tips, or even have an opinion on the merits of how either were duly earned?

    Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

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    1. Okay, that's taking Getting Personal to a whole new level. THANK YOU for all the visuals! Happy Thanksgiving!

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  3. If wait staff wants to get all personal and chummy I can do that, too. I can ask them if they washed their hands the last time they used the toilet, for example, or "Just how big IS your fiance?" Or maybe, "What happened to your hair?" If they really want to get personal I can do it, but they probably won't like it.

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    1. I'd been a server for several decades. If being chummy is what works with most people to get bigger tips, I can't say I blame them. Most of our pay was tips; the minimum wage for servers is practically microscopic. I remember discovering that I got bigger tips when I wrote "Thank you! Mimi" on the check. Then I went to work at a posh restaurant, where the owner thought it was "tacky". I just nodded my head, did it her way for a day or so, then went back to writing "Thank you" on the check. Even in posh restaurants, it still worked. There is no better way for a non-collegiate person to make a lot of money than being a good (and sometimes obsequious) server. (And, parenthetically, get paid more and work fewer hours than management.)

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    2. But I really DO want to know if they have washed their hands after they used the toilet. I'm too cowardly to ask. And I hate butt checks---you know. How they stuff the check holder thingy down the back of their pants at the waist. Ick.

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    3. Oh, guys, you all make my day. Mimimanderly, Dave and I are big over-tippers. We express our displeasure with the service by giving 20%. Most of the time, I get the idea that every restaurant has its own protocol, and the wait staff is instructed how to interact. I actually really like having fun with a waitron, but I prefer if they take their cues from me. The perfect server is pleasant, takes care of everything sort of invisibly, and knows just how much to interact with us by paying attention. We might want to goof on them, or we might want to have a quiet tete-a-tete without being asked "How is everything tasting tonight?"

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    4. All of that Murr and while I don't mind if they check in to ask about the food once we've started eating, my answer's not going to change the next 4 times. I also adore a server who pays attention to the table so knows when to clear a plate or refill a beverage. Quietly.

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    5. Exactly, Murr! A good server has to be able to read people. Some people obviously want very little interaction, while some want to have fun. Still others want a sounding board. Fortunately, I've always been interested in psychology and in body language, so I would just treat them as they seemed to want me to, rather than treating everyone the same way.

      Cheryl, I remember very well going out to dinner with a friend and having a server ask how everything was repeatedly during the meal. I told my friend that if she did that one more time, I'd hurl my plate against the wall and shout "FINE! EVERYTHING IS FUCKING FINE!" As it turned out, I didn't have to resort to such measures, but we didn't do our usual overtipping thing.

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    6. I'd love to have seen you hurl your plate and shout those immortal words. That made me laugh out loud.

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  4. My grumpy old woman persona agrees with you. Which is probably a nice way of describing myself that an asshole (which is a term we don't use here). Arsehole or arsewipe are more common.
    I don't want/need people doing their job to become my friends.
    And I hear you on the praise front too. And on the necessity of love.

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    1. We say arsewipe when we're putting on airs. As it were.

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    2. I hope you google up the story in the news recently about the Queensland woman desperately looking for someone, anyone, to come and remove her arsehole geese.

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  5. I don't like the too-friendly behavior either; it feels like an invasion of my privacy to be asked my name or be treated too familiarly. Whatever happened to dignity and respectful distance? It got lost in fake chumminess.

    Sincerely,
    Another Fuming A-hole

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    1. I hope we end up grumpy in our rockers on the same porch, guarding the lawn.

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  6. Maybe that's why I eschew Starbucks and such and instead opt for McD's drive-thru McCafes where not one rat's ass is given or expected. Vicki

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    1. If only they served mashed yams with butter.

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    2. If you ask often enough they may add them to the menu

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  7. "Praised lavishly for any behavior this side of sociopathy."
    That's it exactly. I do think kids know it's phony.

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    1. I see kids who have learned to pay no attention to their parents sometimes, and they don't look happy.

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  8. I used to point out to my sith grade students all the things I was terrible at. It helped them realize there were some things they also didn't shine at. I don't think most of them had even considered the idea.

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  9. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Not Sith grade. Sixth! Although....there may have been a Darth or two.

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    1. I was planning to let it stand and shine. BTW, I learned the word Sith just a few weeks ago when I was coming up with villains for my migrant-caravan piece. I had to look it up. Because I have never watched any portion of a Star Wars.

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  10. My dad insists on introducing everyone at our table to the wait staff in restaurants and introduces himself to cashiers. My sister refers to this as the Mickey Mouse club routine. My dad also thanks wait staff for serving him. As in, "Thank you for serving me." All of which makes me cringe.

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    1. God, at least your dad doesn't do what my late father-in-law did at a Japanese restaurant one time. The server was a lovely Asian woman in a kimono and FIL started to talk to her in pidgin English. He thought it was funny, but we all wanted to slide under the table. To her credit, she just gave him a look and said "What's the matter? Something wrong with your mouth?"

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    2. Uggh. I've been with older friends who pulled stuff like that before.

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  11. The electronic frippery makes me insane and when I'm tired, a tad paranoid. The whole rigmarole with happy chatty service people really hasn't made many inroads here in New England. Sadly, I live in one of those areas where it has because of tourism. We'll be moving soon because neither of us can stand what it's become. Not. Kidding. It's so insincere, I can't find my smile.

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  12. But Murr, you ARE so great and your writing is so wonderful. You make me laugh with each post. You bring sunshine into the darkest day. Kudos to you and WAY TO GO!!! Oh, and GOOD JOB, BUDDY.

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  13. I will take artificial and condescending praise any day over the type of talk that is being promoted by our leaders today. I tend to get really personal with our wait staff...really!

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  14. Kids of my generation were(mostly) brought up to be polite when speaking to adults.
    And tipping is a DREADFUL thing. The "greatest" country in the world pays its workers such abysmal wages they have to rely on tips?
    And the phony chumminess of waiters, counter staff, whatever, is annoying. A pleasant smile, a please and thankyou should be sufficient.
    And while I'm in grumpy mode...stop holding graduation parades for kindergarten children.You want to wear a mortar board? Fine. Pass enough exams to go to university and you can get the dorky hat then.When it will really mean something.

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    1. First time I ever heard Obama speak, it was in an interview on NPR in which he complained about that very thing: fancy graduation ceremonies for eighth-graders. "C'mon, people. They're going to ninth grade. Let's just move it along."

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  15. I don't remember being praised as a child either. possibly that's why I didn't praise my own kids as much as I could have, although they did get praised for exceptional things.

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  16. My best experience with a server was at a French restaurant with my new wife. We were way above our pay-grade in dining there, but were delighted with the waiter who hid invisibly in the dark, refilled our wine glasses without us being aware he was there, and magically appeared to pull out my wife's chair when he perceived she was restlessly getting ready to attend the women's refreshing room.
    Never knew his name, nor he ours.

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    1. Best experience is the one that almost wasn't there. Right?

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  17. I fall into your camp on this subject. If everyone gets a gold star, then is that gold star even worth a fig?

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    1. I actually remember gold stars. In first grade. I can't remember what we got them for.

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    2. Unmitigated, I couldn't remember what they were for either, but I think you nailed it.

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