A nicer world
I think I live in a nicer world than almost anyone I know.
I say that because wherever I go, I hear complaints about how people are treated. They're cut off in traffic. They're snapped at by QuikTrip clerks. They're ignored by McDonald's cashiers. As far as I can tell, life for most people consists of daily brushes with rudeness and meanness.
I just don't see that for myself. I can't remember the last time I was cut off in traffic. Actually, I couldn't swear in court that I've ever been cut off in traffic. I could swear, however, that people make way for me and do what they can to make my driving experience more pleasant. I do the same for them. When I do, they smile and wave. I wave back.
I eat at McDonald's too often. My kids love the play area. Play areas being what they are, I sometimes have trouble finding a clean table. So I'll find an employee and ask, "Hey, could you get me a rag so I can wipe off a table in the play area?" As far as I can recall, I've gotten the same response every single time. No, the employee doesn't ignore me. No, the employee doesn't just toss me a rag. Instead, the employee says, "Oh, I'm sorry. Here, let me take care of that for you." And then the person does it right away.
I've seen that happen in Illinois, Missouri, and Kansas. Maybe we're just nicer in the Midwest. But maybe not. In the summer of 1992, shortly after the Rodney King riots, I drove to Los Angeles. When I got to town, I pulled into a Carl's Jr. (for the first time--we don't have those in the Midwest). I'd heard that racial tensions still ran very high. So I became rather nervous when I got out of my car and accidentally bumped into a young black woman in skimpy clothing. (I don't mean to make her sound like a slut by mentioning the skimpy clothing. It was, after all, a summer in L.A. My point is that I couldn't avoid some skin contact, and that's a more significant social error.) Then her date got out of the driver's seat. He was dressed straight out of Boyz N the Hood. He looked right at me.
I said, "Excuse me." The girl smiled. The guy said, "Hey, man, sorry bout that. Didn't mean to pull in so close. Hard to get out, there." I smiled back and said, "No problem." Then we went our separate ways. That was that. Nobody pulled out an automatic weapon. The gutters didn't run red with our blood.
I'm not sure what it is about me that makes people polite around me. Maybe I'm just too dense to notice when they're rude. Whatever it is, though, I like it, and I'm in no hurry to change it. I just wish life could be like this for more people.
I say that because wherever I go, I hear complaints about how people are treated. They're cut off in traffic. They're snapped at by QuikTrip clerks. They're ignored by McDonald's cashiers. As far as I can tell, life for most people consists of daily brushes with rudeness and meanness.
I just don't see that for myself. I can't remember the last time I was cut off in traffic. Actually, I couldn't swear in court that I've ever been cut off in traffic. I could swear, however, that people make way for me and do what they can to make my driving experience more pleasant. I do the same for them. When I do, they smile and wave. I wave back.
I eat at McDonald's too often. My kids love the play area. Play areas being what they are, I sometimes have trouble finding a clean table. So I'll find an employee and ask, "Hey, could you get me a rag so I can wipe off a table in the play area?" As far as I can recall, I've gotten the same response every single time. No, the employee doesn't ignore me. No, the employee doesn't just toss me a rag. Instead, the employee says, "Oh, I'm sorry. Here, let me take care of that for you." And then the person does it right away.
I've seen that happen in Illinois, Missouri, and Kansas. Maybe we're just nicer in the Midwest. But maybe not. In the summer of 1992, shortly after the Rodney King riots, I drove to Los Angeles. When I got to town, I pulled into a Carl's Jr. (for the first time--we don't have those in the Midwest). I'd heard that racial tensions still ran very high. So I became rather nervous when I got out of my car and accidentally bumped into a young black woman in skimpy clothing. (I don't mean to make her sound like a slut by mentioning the skimpy clothing. It was, after all, a summer in L.A. My point is that I couldn't avoid some skin contact, and that's a more significant social error.) Then her date got out of the driver's seat. He was dressed straight out of Boyz N the Hood. He looked right at me.
I said, "Excuse me." The girl smiled. The guy said, "Hey, man, sorry bout that. Didn't mean to pull in so close. Hard to get out, there." I smiled back and said, "No problem." Then we went our separate ways. That was that. Nobody pulled out an automatic weapon. The gutters didn't run red with our blood.
I'm not sure what it is about me that makes people polite around me. Maybe I'm just too dense to notice when they're rude. Whatever it is, though, I like it, and I'm in no hurry to change it. I just wish life could be like this for more people.