Signs of Civility

Greetings from Poosey.

For all his faults, and they stretch the length of my arm, husband Herb has some good things going for him. Above all the man believes in civility. Yes, he hollers and gripes and moans like a whiney child at times, but when it comes to public behavior the guy is delightfully a product of good upbringing. In public at least, he knows how to be a gentleman and has little tolerance for those who think and act otherwise.

In Herb’s book, a hat is strictly for outside wear. When you come into a building the hat comes off your head …period. He’ll sit at the restaurant with the “boys” eating lunch and a fellow across the table will be wearing his seed corn hat, and it’s all Herb can do to keep from reaching across the table with his fork and flipping the thing to the ground. Herb’s philosophy is simple: you wear a hat to protect your head and there’s nothing in McDonald’s or the Methodist Church that’s likely to drop onto your skull.

In Herb’s book you get places early. It’s a simple matter of starting early enough to get there and if you’re going to walk in late, then stay home. Other folks depend on it. It’s just a matter of civility – such as, 7 p.m. means 6:45 and if you can’t figure that out then get off the committee.

No loud talking in restaurants or stores. Folks didn’t come out to eat so they can hear your conversation. If you have to shout, then go outside. Better yet, stay home. There’s a useful invention for folks who need to carry on full-throated conversations in public places whether to their spouse or their cell phone. It’s called “carry out meals.”

No matter how styles and modes of worship may change, you wear a tie to church. If you want to play cards at the pool hall your t-shirt may do just fine, but when God shows up he deserves a tie. When our first lady pastor showed up in a pantsuit I thought I was going to have to carry Herb out with last week’s altar flowers.

You don’t mow your yard on Sunday even if the grass is so high that a boatload of immigrants has taken up residence and opened their own grocery store in the shade of your pecan tree and thatched their hut with the tall crabgrass.

In Herb’s mind, the dinner table is not the place for controversy, whether you’re eating with your family at home or dining out with friends. Disagreement and disputes are not aids to digestion. Every family has at least one wacko and when Herb’s cousin Filbert went off on an anti-Hillary tirade last Easter Herb quietly picked up his plate and ate in the next room, despite the fact that for once he agreed with his cousin.

Herb’s idea of neatness may be a bit skewed, but at least his heart’s in the right place. He can’t remember to pick his socks up off the floor, but the tools in his shed are a testament to cleanliness and order. He’s not sure where he put his suspenders, but he dusts his hammers. Even civility has its priorities.

When the young lunatic walked into the Emanuel African Methodist Church in downtown Charleston, South Carolina, our already shell-shocked nation reeled in horror. Then as we braced ourselves for another month of civil unrest the citizens of Charleston gathered, black and white, to mourn their loss. No riots in the streets, no cars overturned, no violent backlash. Sadness was everywhere, but civility ruled the day. We didn’t ignore the tragedy or the underlying problems that produced such a tragedy, but a community came together to say that the loss of any of us is a loss to all of us. Charleston showed us that we are still capable of being one nation under God. Chalk it up to a being a community of faith or the mindset of the South, it was a testament to how we are still capable of compassion and civility.

I could have done better in my choice of life partner when it comes to things like politics, snoring, and the habit of cutting his toenails in bed, but at least I get to spend my life with a man who knows how to practice civility. I never thought I’d say this, but I yearn for a nation that’s just a bit more Herb-ish.

You ever ‘round Poosey, stop by. We may not answer the door but you’ll enjoy the trip.