The Golden Yield

A great deal of thought and prose has been dedicated to the notion that traditional "good manners" are an increasingly rare practice these days. So much so that I'll add little to the intellectual lexicon of commentary to note it any further. There's no doubt that the culture of self-importance that we have imbued in our last two generations has finally become the dominant paradigm in personal conduct (or in other words, has come home to roost). And since many of the small matters of politeness are just simple consideration of others, it's no surprise that they've begun to fade as the average person's sphere of awareness extends little further than their nose. This refusal to acknowledge the rest of the body politic, no matter their proximity, by these casual sociopaths, however, has gone further than just eradicating polite conduct, it has now made basic navigation of the metropolitan world around us, if not impossible, impossibly maddening.

Elevator Loading

Elevators have always been awkward spaces - but the notion that they ought to remain largely silent has thankfully survived the current wave of de-gentrification. However, the scene surrounding the exit and entry of these devices has become impossibly frustrating. When the elevator car arrives, the people trying to get on rush the door like it's a day-after-Thanksgiving Wal-Mart opening and the people trying to get off the elevator are pushing through the crowd like teenage pop-stars through paparazzi. This inevitably leads to a bevy of unnecessary and uncomfortable touching, making the whole process a lot more awkward than need be.

Honestly, is this so hard to figure out? The elevator only has one door; meaning one way on, and one way off. Which means that before you get on, you have to let everyone get off. And yet, every time I get off an elevator, I'm greeted by the dumbfounded looks of oncoming riders who actually appear to be surprised to find there are people riding the elevator the opposite direction and who now need to disembark (foiling their well-laid loading plans). What's more, they are so remiss to give up their position in the de facto loading queue, they actually force me to push my way through them rather than allowing me to dismount directly. Can someone please explain this to me? There are no "good seats" on an elevator, and, in fact, getting in first may actually be a disdavantage, especially if you're anticipating a short ride. And even if you don't get on, there will be another one along shortly. So why is everyone crowding around the door like it's the "General Admission" entrance to an Aerosmith show? I recently watched a standoff between just such a crowd and a woman in wheelchair that actually remained a standoff while elevator doors closed on her twice. At which point, a young man stepped aside to let her through (while the rest of the crowd poured inside).

I mean, far from simply being inconsiderate (which could just be attributed to moral decay and general malaise) they're actually slowing down the process by not letting people off first. These people aren't just spatially unaware, they're spatially stupid.

Sidewalk/Hallway Stopping

Pedestrian walkways have been traditionally every so much more efficient than roadways. They can accomodate a much larger number of people (even shoulder to shoulder) and a slight bump into another person isn't accompanied by a thousand dollar repair bill, insurance claim paperwork, or a possible court appearance. It's easy to get in and get out of the flow, and you can easily get to the side if you need to stop or slow down. I remember how terrifying this sometimes seemed as a small child - when all the world was taller than I, and all that I could glean from the experience was the strict imperative that I'd better keep moving. But somewhere along the way, this imperative got lost.

I now regularly walk behind people who either (1) simply stop, backing up pedestrian traffic like a keystone cops or Benny Hill scene, or (2) walk at a speed I previously thought only achievable on slow-motion replays. What's more, they commonly engage in these behaviors in small groups, walking the width of path/hall - making getting around them difficult if not impossible. I mean, I understand that we don't actually have eyes on the backs of our heads, but have our attention spans gotten so short that we have actually forgotten their are folks walking behind us? Is it too much to ask them to get the hell out of the way if they're going to stop? I imagine these same folks don't just park their car in the middle of street when they've gotten where they're going - they find a parking spot. Which is all I'd ask that they do with their ass and their posse.

But perhaps "parking" behavior is something that must be socialized into people. I imagine that if there wasn't a penalty for putting your vehicle in the wrong place, these people might actually park them in the middle of the street. Pedestrian parking tickets? I mean, if it cost you thirty bucks every time you decided to act like the only person on the sidewalk, I bet'd you get your butt off the side next time you tried to actually fire up that mush between your ears and the overload of trying to simultaneously walk and think actually made both processes seize.

Your Music

One of the best things about the iPod revolution is that is has many of us dancing and walking around to whatever music we like, as loud as we want, without disturbing the world around us. We can experience the world with our own soundtrack, just like as the guy sitting next to us can do the same, even if he's doing it to Miley Cyrus and High School Musical 3 songs (which also saves him from having me smash his iPod into a million pieces). Which is not to say that I'm not open to indulge the musical tastes of others - just that I'd like to choose when and from whom I do so.

Additionally, I'm also not opposed to loud music. In fact, I love it loud. I regularly turn up my own car stereo loud enough that I'm not subjected to my own tone-deaf warblings, and last December I sat in the sixth row of the AC/DC concert without hearing protection. Believe me, I'm not some old fuddy-duddy who wants everyone to turn it down. But, I can think of two instances where I definitely shouldn't have to listen to your music: (1) when I'm walking on the sidewalk of a street downtown; and (2) when I'm sitting in my own car with the windows up.

Yet, these are two places where I'm regularly subjected to the predictably absurd musical tastes of the local teenagers, who seem less bent on sharing their taste in bands than on assuring me of their own importance, as though I assign some measure of influence or coolness simply to one's volume. In reality, the effect is just the opposite, and I'm left wondering (as is the surrounding public) if some of the excess hair gel has actually seeped into your ears and brain, limiting both your hearing ability and musical judgment. Do us both a favor and turn it down.

* * *

The downside of raising multiple generations who are completely vested in their own importance is lack of room in most of their psyches for the importance of others. Far from bemoaning the loss of social graces, this behavioral tragedy is actually making the landscape more difficult to navigate for everyone.

Traffic, whether in the street, the sidewalk or the building, is not something that's going to get solved for us. There aren't going to be less people to deal with in the future, there are going to be more. If it isn't obvious by now, the looking-out-for-number-one paradigm hasn't really worked out. Maybe the only new traffic rule we need isn't so new after all, besides, whether "golden" or not, getting the hell out of the way of the others, as you would have them get the hell out of yours, has a nice ring to it.