| Remembering
Eloquence |
| So much of America's eloquence, style and grace has long
vanished into a mist of self-centeredness and poor taste. |
| Men and boys wear hats in restaurants, in schools, in offices
and in homes. |
| Women wear blue jeans to all sorts of events where blue
jeans should not be worn. They wear shorts to meetings and
curlers to the grocery store. |
| Most school teachers have long since abandoned the white
shirt, slacks and ties for more casual attire, and the students
reflect this lack of self-confidence. |
| The proper use of the English language is being challenged. |
| We eat off plastic plates and drink from paper cups. |
| The dot-com companies have demanded a change in the way
we dress for work. |
| Silver has given way to aluminum. |
| Diamonds to cubic zirconia. |
| Silk to latex. |
| Books to television. |
| Manners to rudeness. |
| Although I have fallen into many of today's casual and unstylistic
mannerisms, I was always at the knee of several masters in
my life who demanded that I "straighten up and fly right."
|
| First there were my parents, who always demanded that I
act like a gentleman. "You act the way you dress," my dad
would say. "Say ¨May I please,'" my mom would plead. They
are both gone now, but the lessons linger. |
| My wife, Betsy, took me kicking and screaming into a more
genteel life. I fought it, and still often do. I am the tin
and beer in our relationship; she is the silver and champagne. |
| And I know from whom she learned it: her mother, Louise
C. Bogart, who died last week at the age of 95. She passed
on quietly, in style and with grace. |
| She was my mother-in-law for 35 years, and we shared many
things like books, bridge, sports, Scotch, and other Earthly
pursuits. |
| She was always Mrs. Bogart to me until I married her daughter.
She remained Mrs. Bogart to waiters, children, strangers and
younger friends. |
| She always took the first bite at dinner and you never passed
her the salt when she asked for it by handing the shaker to
her. You simply put the shaker on the table near her plate.
Say please and thank you. And use your napkin. Your cloth
napkin, of course. |
| We always wore a coat and tie at holiday dinners, stood
while we said grace, and ate in the dining room, of course.
Young or old, it was just what we always did. Louise wanted
it that way. |
| In a restaurant, pity the poor waiter who would clear from
the table an empty plate if someone was still eating. And
she would let the waiter know. "We're not all finished eating,"
she would say. Actually, her voice never sounded that calm.
She was not afraid to teach the waiter a valuable lesson. |
| Even today, in the rush and rumble of modern restaurants,
I remember her admonishments and sometimes, when I remember,
I tell the waiter to wait until we all finish before he clears
the table. No one understands the practice, but most honor
it. |
| My respect and love for Louise started early. Before Betsy
and I married in Chicago I called her parents Mr. and Mrs.
Bogart. When I visited their apartment on the city's north
side, I would not dareÅmostly out of respectÅto show affection
toward Betsy except for holding hands or stealing a kiss.
|
| We married in Evanston, Ill., spent a three-day honeymoon
in downtown Chicago, and then spent one nightÅone very long
nightÅin my wife's parents' apartment before heading back
to college. I actually had to sleep in the same room with
my new bride in her parents' apartment. Good grief! |
| I called them George and Louise for the first time that
night and went to bed. I raised my arms in an exaggerated
stretch and told them how very tired I was and how fast I
probably would go to sleep. If I remember, we slept in single
beds that night. I was glad we did. |
| Her death last week was more than just a passing of a gracious
and loving woman. It was the passing of an age when manners,
eloquence, style and grace really counted. This weekend her
family will remember her with words of praise and song. |
| I have been thinking about how I can hang on to some of
those qualities she was so good at teaching, and how to pass
them on to my own adult children, and to my grandchildren.
|
| I'm not sure I can do that, but I think I'll start by once
again putting on a coat and tie at holiday dinners, having
the neighborhood children call me Mr. Grein, and by telling
the waiter to wait until we all finish eating before clearing
the table. |
| And that's Our Town this week. |
