320 Years of History
Gold Member
We are born charming, fresh and spontaneous and must be civilized before we are fit to participate in society.
― Judith Martin
I think too few folks these days appreciate the importance of civility. Moreover, too few appreciate the privileges that accompany it, but then they wouldn't if they've never learned what it means to lose them.
To this day I recall Daddy's instructions the evening after I'd made an unruly outburst at school. I was a sixth grader.I think there remain a few communities in which shunning is still practiced. IMO, there need to be more. I think it'd do folks good to learn firsthand how Hester Prynne felt. Maybe then they'd appreciate the benefits of cordiality and the privilege of being permitted to interact with others. Too many folks take for granted and assume that the rest of us have to deal with them. In nearly all cases, we do not. It's pitiful that so many in our nation, most ironically the "social media" crowd who often behave in among the most antisocial ways conceivable, have forgotten that nothing forces our cultural approbation of boors, curs, cads and cretins.
I was in my room doing homework when Daddy knocked gently on my door, opened it, greeted me, came in, sat down, and began speaking in the softest tone and most tersely measured drawl I've heard from him before or since.
"You will leave this room only to go to school during the next month. Louise will deliver your meals and return thirty minutes later to collect the dishes which you will have set outside your door for her to collect. Do not leave food on your plate, and do not make her knock."
He then presented an alarm clock he'd brought with him and showed me how to set it.
"Helen will be up directly to show you how to make your bed and to leave fresh linens. You will wake on time to go to school in time to bathe, eat and make your bed everyday. You will change the linens every third morning and place the used ones outside your door. Do you have enough toilet paper to last the month?"
"Yes, sir," I replied after going to the restroom to check.
"A driver will take you to and from school. Upon your return to school Monday, you will apologize contritely to your teacher and classmates for your surly misbehavior. Do not allow me to discover you failed to do so."
"During the next month you will study your classwork, and you will read this book, after which you will religiously comport yourself accordingly."
With that he tossed a wrapped book, Emily Post's Etiquette, onto my desk, and then continued.
"You will henceforth nevah publicly embarrass your mother or me. Have you anything you care to ask or say to your mother or me before your sequester commences?"
I apologized to him asked him if I might do so with Mother. He told me she'd be up shortly to receive my apology. With that he gently closed the door and left.
The gardner showed up next and removed my stereo and television. Then the housekeeper appeared with linens and showed me how to make my bed and deposited two other sets on the and took the dogs' beds from my room. She told me she'd leave a week's fresh linens on my desk as needed.
Mother appeared not long after and I apologized to her. That was the last I saw or spoke with either of my parents, the housekeeper, the cat, the dogs, the gardener and cook for a month.
Each school day I'd go downstairs to get in the cab knowing there had to be at least three people, two dogs, and a cat somewhere, yet there was not a soul to be seen or heard in the house. The driver wouldn't even talk to me other than to, on the my first attempt to engage him, tell me he'd been told I was to be silent and so was he.
On the Monday when I first returned to school, I was grateful to be there for at least I got to see other people whom I knew. Much to my dismay, Daddy's anger with and authority over me reached even there. He'd somehow managed to have my seat moved to the back of every class and set in a row unto itself. Also,I was forbad going to recess.
That was the most miserable month of my life. I neverafter lost control of myself until I was well into adulthood.
I love luxury. Some people think luxury is the opposite of poverty. It is not. Luxury lies not in richness and ornateness, but in the absence of vulgarity.
― Coco Chanel
Gee it must have been nice growing up with servants and drivers and all manner of people to tend to your needs
It has its pros and cons much like growing up any other way does.
The people who worked in our home were my parents' staff not mine. My sequestration month was the only time I had a driver take me anywhere. His presence, like everything else in that month, was part of the orchestrated isolation. You have no idea what that's like, I think.
- Thursday:
- You are a social being who has friends. They talk to you; they play games with you, etc.
- You have parents who interact with you, who ask about your day at school, who help you with your homework, etc.
- You have pets that entertain you.
- You have music, radio, and television.
- You have books that you are reading for pleasure.
- There are charismatic people around the house who teach you things and involve you in their lives.
- You have pictures and posters on your bedroom wall.
- You have Hot Wheels and comic books and other toys and sources of amusement.
- Friday evening:
- You see nobody from three o'clock until your father enters your room.
- He rebukes you for misbehaving and sentences you to what amounts to solitary confinement.
- You apologize and begin penance.
- Saturday and everyday non-school day thereafter for a month:
- Nobody talks to you.
- Nobody sees you.
- There is no radio, TV or music.
- The only books in your room are your texts, your notebooks, and Etiquette, and they are your sole distractions from your solitude. Occasionally you'd see a bird or a squirrel in the tree outside your window.
- There are no pictures, no Hot Wheels, no comic books or toys or games.
- There are no pets. You don't so much as hear the dog bark or howl.
- There's a knock on your door, you count to 30, open the door and pick up the tray. You eat, put the dishes outside your door in the hope of glimpsing someone or your dogs, or anything other than an empty hallway, but there is nothing.
- You don't so much as have shoe laces to tie together and play Jacob's Ladder. I tried twisting toilet paper and making a lariat of sorts so I could play that game. It didn't work. I resorted to throwing balled up paper at imagined targets in my room and bathroom.
- Monday:
- The only person who will actually talk to you is your teacher, and then only when you have a question.
- At school, you are ushered in silence to your classroom. You go to the restroom alone. You eat lunch alone. You do not get to play with the other kids. The only contact you have with the other kids is a nod from your best friend as he enters the class in the morning.
- You ride in complete silence to and from school.