The Roughest 4-Letter Word

Hey! Elastica--"Party Games" (mp3)
Photons--"Where Were You Last Night" (mp3)

Imagine a word that is so foul, so virulent, that it leaves otherwise socially-engaged people stunned and silent. Or at least silent. Because when they see this word, many people don't know to respond. So they don't. It is almost like they are frozen, or in a trance, helpless to do even the smallest thing.

That word is......................................RSVP.

Heck, it's not even a word, really, especially if I'd put the periods in there where they're supposed to be. In fact, it's a bunch of French words. As I learned it, it is the acronym for "Respondez, s'il vous plait." Answer, if you please.

Except, it doesn't really mean that. It means, politely, "Please let me know if you are coming." It is how the host knows how much food to prepare, how much wine to order, how many seats to set at the table, how much dishware to rent. If we're talking about something major, like a wedding reception, those RSVPs become the head count that the caterer will use to determine the cost of the reception. And the caterer doesn't care whether people show or not, said they were coming but don't, didn't say that they were coming, but do.

People in the modern world are not good with the RSVP. And I don't really know why. I don't know if they mean to, then forget. I don't know if they don't know that they are supposed to. And I'm certainly not going to claim that this is another example of a society in decline and rave on about the good old days when people had manners.

And, I promise you, this is not a thinly-veiled attack on anyone reading this blog or not. It's not personal at all; it's pervasive. Ask the headmaster's secretary, ask the group of lawyers who throw the Christmas party downtown every year, the person running a book group, ask anyone who regularly entertains, large or small. It's just plain hard to get people to deal with the R-word. And not just socially. In the business setting, too.

Anyone proper will tell you that its cousin, "Regrets only," is not only improper, it's weak sauce. Especially in today's world. Because if people aren't going to RSVP, which would give a host an exact count of the number of people coming to an event, then putting "Regrets only" down at the bottom of an invite isn't going to tell a host a thing. Hosting has become a guessing game, which leaves the host with either too much or not enough, needless expense or social embarrassment.

Recently, I invited 55 people to a gathering for a retiring faculty member. I've only heard back from half. The event is a little over a week away.

I hesitate mentioning that, because it makes it sound like I have an ax to grind, that the only reason for this post is my frustration about next weekend. I promise you that is not the case. As a veteran party-giver, I have long since learned how to adapt to this situation, so can we use the situation as fodder for discussion?

At what point, in the time remaining, does an RSVP lose its value? I mean, if you call the day of the event and say that you're coming, does that help with the planning at all? If you haven't RSVP'ed at all, would the host rather that you came or didn't come? And if it's your party, how willing should you be to "beat the bushes?" Ask too many people "Hey, are you going to be able to come to...." and it sounds/feels like you're desperate.

Personally, I'd rather you came than didn't. If I invited you, that would mean I want you to come, above all considerations. But, sure, I'd rather know.

Once, I lost my composure, and I have regretted it ever since. I list it among the dark days when I know that I embarrassed myself, and no amount of self-rationalization can get me past it. It happened one time when a couple showed up to a party and we didn't know that they were coming because we never heard back from them. Usually, I try to maintain a graceful composure; this time, with an edge to my voice, I blurted out, "Oh, we didn't know you were coming." Well, when you say that kind of shitty thing, you put your guests on the defensive, force them to explain or apologize, something no guests should ever have to do.

Totally unnecessary, Bob. Totally unnecessary. So it isn't like I don't have some manner issues of my own.

Yes'm

A Little Respect - Erasure (mp3)
Do You Believe - Charn (mp3)

Wanna know what one of the biggest points of disagreement about raising our children used to be? The definition of "politeness."

Raised in the South by two very Southern people from lower- and middle-class backgrounds, I was taught to believe politeness requires showing respect to all people you meet, to all people with whom you interact. You say "please" and "thank you." You say "Yes sir" and "No ma'am." You hold doors open for people walking behind you -- yes, especially for women, but even for men. You wait for everyone else to be served their food before you start eating yours. You stand up when a guest walks into the room. You shake hands and look people in the eye.

The only permitted exceptions to these rules, at least where my parents were concerned, were for close friendships. You didn't have to follow these rules with true friends in a relaxed environment.

My father was good friends with the man who was his boss. When they were at work, my father would address him as "sir" in all interactions. When they were lounging around on weekends drinking whiskey and soda at my dad's very 70s lounge bar downstairs in our house, you heard no "sir" used. No sir you didn't. I have no idea whether my father's boss found this practice annoying, empowering, or if he even noticed.

My wife, on the other hand, was raised in a different manner. One only needed say "yes" or "no" (rather than "yeah" or "nah") to be considered polite. One needed not include "sir" or "ma'am." And the uses of "please" and "thank you," while certainly appreciated, were not as ubiquitously required as they were in my family in order to be judged a polite and decent human being.

We are both still very much the products of our upbringing, although my wife has gradually fallen into my way of thinking either because she gave up trying to fight something so pointless or because she began to see it much like certain people view heaven: better to teach your children to err on the side of too much politeness instead of too little, y'know, just in case.

Further muddying the broth is how quickly I can dredge up examples of students or kids whose use of proper politeness tags is impeccable yet whose actions and behavior sans adults belies someone more two-faced than Two-Face. Which means I'm stuck believing in something with little more reason behind it than the nauseating "because that's the way I was brought up" excuse.

But... but... what's wrong with a little respect?

I can't help but believe that one part of the problem with much of our educational system is that the worst parents worry more about their children's self-esteem than they do about their child learning in an atmosphere of respect for their peers and their leaders. And I'm a little worried about our place in history where my writing those words makes me fear that my German roots are showing through. If you're a good parent, it's very likely your children are plenty respectful to most adults, thus freeing you up to worry about those other things in their proper perspective.

If the "Broken Windows" theory of crime has the slightest bit of validity, isn't there room to believe in a "Broken Windows" theory of manners, that the more we expect our children to adhere to the small details of politeness, the more likely they'll be aware of and display those important notions in the big moments?

Lest my opinion seem inflexible, the following are names given to me by students I truly loved and whose company I frequently enjoyed: "Bambi," "F-word," "F-bomb," "Uncle Billy." Some teachers would vomit themselves before allowing their students to address them so casually, and I doubt I would ever allow my children to do so to any adult I didn't know incredibly well. But I tell myself that these boys, who gave me these names, had already moved past the first level of manners, for the most part. They knew how to color in the lines. They knew how they were supposed to treat their authority figures and fellow man and woman, and now they were stretching out those boundaries, experimenting, playing. Once you learn the basics, you can advance.

Is it possible that respect and courtesy are like muscle tissue that must be worked out and built up over time? That one need not start out saying these things with sincerity, that the habit builds first, and the sincerity follows?

Or do I just need to get out of the South more often?

Charn's song is available thanks to the band's promotional team providing BOTG with their album, which is darn good, actually. As for "A Little Respect," I can remember exactly where I was the first time my classmate -- who came out of the closet five years later -- introduced it to me. I can even tell you the subject, the classroom and the seats where we sat. It's weird shit like that that keeps me from remembering people's names when I meet them now.