Picture this: A Sunny Sunday afternoon at The Corner in Charlottesville, Virginia, my home town and home of my alma mater. We were enjoying lunch as a family, chatting about our fantastic trip to Monticello earlier in the day. The sky was blue, birds were serenading us, the sounds of foot traffic hummed. Shoulders were bared everywhere as people shed their winter cloaks in favor of soaking up unadulterated sunshine. We sat a table and perused the menu. My kids listened with equal parts interest and disinterest as I waxed on about my time in college. It was more verbal galavanting down memory lane than back-in-the-day stories of the good ol’ days.
In any case, we are a family that eats out frequently. We love to try new local joints and ravenously eat up restaurant reviews in cities we visit. Bird and Deal know how to behave in a restaurant. Sure, they go through their bits of “He’s touching me!” and whining when the food takes forever, but for the most part, they are well behaved at a restaurant. There are no upturned salt shakers or sugar packets torn to shreds. I see this as a victory. Since the boys were little they have had no screens at the table. We don’t stare at a screen while we sit in a restaurant so why should our children? Crayons and conversation are all we needed then and now. Well, the boys have graduated to pens instead of crayons, but when the restaurant provides crayons all four of us do end up doodling.
While we were waiting at the table for our food we were having a lovely conversation and just generally enjoying ourselves. Now granted, there is always some level of poking, prodding, and provoking, but we were all engaged in conversation. By all accounts we were exhibiting civil human interactions, Mac Daddy and I relishing a beer while the boys savored a rare soda treat. There was positively nothing remarkable about this scene.
And then we looked over at the table across from us.
Also a family of four – mom, dad, two daughters. Mom was gaily chatting away to the girls, both seated across from their parents. Dad was caressing his beer, as if to palpably feel relief in the cold moisture slowly dripping down his glass onto the napkin beneath it. Mom had ordered an iced tea, and while she delicately stirred in sweetener she gabbed and gabbed to her daughters. All the while they never looked up. Suddenly, I realized how remarkable we were.
These college age girls had their faces in a screen the entire time. They responded to their parents with head nods and grunts. I never heard actual words come out of their mouths. They rudely didn’t even look up to place their order. The parents never admonished their rudeness and were blase about the whole exchange. Mac Daddy and I stared incredulously. The whole time our family chatted, their family competed with screens. I would have snatched up those phones and grabbed those girls by the earlobes as I dragged them outside.
I’m not going to blather about “kids today!” lest you think I’m a “get off mah lawn!” kind of gal, but really, this is about manners. Good manners are classic and stand the test of time, technology be damned. Eye contact. Conversation. Please and thank you. Engaging with the people around you (especially your parents for crying out loud!!!). There’s enough research and information out there about the detriments of social media and screens. I don’t need to rehash any of that. But I will stand tall on my soapbox about manners. The world is bursting with bad manners that technology just exacerbates. The damn smart phone is ubiquitous, and the place where we break bread is no place for that rude distraction. Family meal time is almost extinct as it is, America. Oh, that’s just begging for another blog post…
There was a restaurant on downtown Chicago that Mac Daddy and I frequented when I was in graduate school and he was working in the Loop. This was the late 90s so cell phones were just becoming annoying ubiquitous, especially amongst the downtown Chicago business elite and wannabes. Perry’s posted “no cell phone” signs all over the place. The signs were a warning, or an invitation, depending on your perspective. We always appreciated the no cell phone policy and wish more places would adopt the same philosophy. Conversation mustn’t be a lost art. Manners matter.
Put down your phones. Talk to each other. Let the voices of those you love and admire be etched in your memory. Pay attention to the glint in your love’s gray-blue eyes. Notice laugh lines (and take pride in creating them). Remember each other’s inflections and mannerisms to connect the dots for future generations. Caress a hand. Lock eyes with your friends and family, not your screen.
Word!
We don’t allow cellphones at the table, or getting up to answer the “real” phone. And on a regular basis, I quote my mother about “rediscovering the lost art of conversation” – because it’s a great phrase and better sentiment.