Fade to Gray: A world of rude

Growing up in South Troy a child gets two educations; the one at school and the one from the neighborhood. While teachers at school focus on history, math and grammar, the neighborhood instructs in a less delicate way. Put simple, if you act like a jerk you’ll earn yourself a good smack and likely get it. It taught a child early on in life how to govern their tongue and respect his or her peers. Unfortunately this isn’t 1970 anymore and some people couldn’t find manners if you gave them a GPS device, Jack Sparrow and a treasure map.

A few days ago my wife and I took a quick overnight trip to New Jersey’s shore to see a show and walk on the beach. I met or encountered a few hundred people and I could count on one hand (with fingers to spare) the number who were truly polite.

During our drive, for example, my wife was in heavy traffic and needed to get over to the next lane. She kept looking for an opening but this was holiday traffic and nobody was letting her in. Fair enough, she’s the one in the wrong lane.

Finally she sees an opening and zips into the space. Done. Except we weren’t. The guy she had to get in front of didn’t like another car jumping in front of him so he honked the horn. Not the kind of loud honk you do to display your anger, this was more the “beep, beep” variety designed to make you look up as if they just wanted your attention. She looked and he gave her the finger.

We almost laughed about it since it was such an overreaction but didn’t respond deciding instead to just continue on our journey. He was tailgating her now clearly on purpose. Eventually the lane to our right was free so my wife moved over to let Prince Charming go by. When she did the car speeded by and we got a second look at his middle finger. Yes he did it again, this time even more pronounced.

Unfortunately for the guy he was driving a company car with the logo on the side and below that the company phone number. I quickly snapped a photo and decided to call the boss right then and there.

I told them we were on the thruway and just met one of their drivers in a most unusual way. I said I’m sorry if your driver felt slighted in some small way but giving us the finger, twice, seemed a bit extreme. Not to mention him taking his eyes off the road in heavy speeding traffic to do it. The person on the other end agreed and said they’d be having a chat with the employee very soon. We kept watch and saw him react to what looked like a phone call and he got off the very next exit.

That event was really par for the course on this trip to Jersey. I can’t tell you how many times I got bumped into with no “excuse me” forthcoming. People cutting line and acting like they were raised by wolves was the norm. My favorite moment is when you are standing in a long line for a half hour and just as you are getting close the guy in front of you has three others join him and cut the line. He gives you a look that says, “What? I was saving their spot.”

I’m starting to seriously wonder if teaching basic everyday manners has gone the way the horse and buggy; meaning lovely to remember but scarce to find.

It’s gotten so bad that when someone is genuinely sweet with you it stands out. “Wow, you held the door for me?” How nice. Are you an Osmond? You know, like Donna and Marie?”

I didn’t by want this to turn into another one of those “back in my day” columns but honestly, back in my day you took your hat off in church, you didn’t use foul language around children, ladies or seniors and you didn’t flip people off at the drop of a hat.

Had that clown pulled that stunt with almost anyone in the Troy of my mis-spent youth he would have been asking someone for napkins to stop the nose bleed that came after.

I hope the guy doesn’t get fired, just told whatever annoying behavior he perceives others, he should keep his hands on the wheel and if he must vent his anger, have the wisdom to do it in his own car and on his own time. You can call me a “tattletale” but his driving was angry and aggressive and without correction somebody like that will eventually get someone hurt.

I’ll close with the words of the mystic philosopher Dalton from me the underrated movie Roadhouse. “Just be nice. At least until it’s time to not be nice.”

And who decides that? Why Dalton of course.

Thank you for reading this column and have a nice day. See, being polite is not that hard.