With the psychic fabric of our daily living being tugged at in every way tolerable, financially, politically, and spiritually, there is nothing that demands of us to surrender our sense of class, and decorum.
2010 may well be the year to bring back some semblance of courtesy and class.
In reading through the comments that have been left at this Blogroom since we launched this project in July, I could not help but notice that we have been privileged to attract some very literate and classy commentators.
I mentioned that observation to a few neighbors, family and friends, and they in turn asked me what I meant by a, “sense of class.”
The first thing that came to mind, was a couple of lines out of the movie, ” No Place For Old Men,” when the one retired law enforcement dude says to Tommy Lee Jones, “it all fell apart when we stopped sayin’ yes mam, and yes sir.”
I work on the Old Pueblo Trolley on the weekends and we attract a large number of young men and women in the Armed Forces. They come to town from Fort Huachuca and Davis Monthan for some weekend leisure on the Avenue. It is noticed by all the riders how courteous these young soldiers, airmen and women, and Marines are in their language and demeanor. (I wished I could have said the same about ourselves when we were on liberty from Camp Pendleton!)
They are pretty classy kids. Is it possible that a sense of class is circling back on us to take the place of a decade or so of Simpson’s like languaging and in your face talk radio dialect? Pray tell what the village would be like with common courtesy taking a priority in all our conversations. Could the House and the Senate survive?
So what is a sense of class?
Here is a collage of ideas and impressions of what a sense of class may entail. Some of these are from notes I made for my children twenty years ago. I believe a few may have come from an author, Paul Fussell, a decorated WWll veteran and professor of literature.
Generally speaking, class implies an integrity, compassion and a sense of fairness in manner and speech. A generosity of spirit in conduct. A very individualized congruity with what you say and what you do. A bit different than style, class is somewhat more all encompassing of the person.
The traits of our new 21st Century classy American could be some of the following; lack of hostility, controlled ambition, a disdain for complaining, a tendency toward good luck. A polite consideration of the talents and limits of others. Knowing where you are going. A willingness to let time measure your performance rather then a strident meritorious selling of the self.
A quiet pursuit of excellence. An abhorrence of pretentiousness. Understanding and using the beauty of understatement. Seldom in doubt about the right thing to do. Caring about what is eternal, not just the encore mentality of a programmed consumer.
Not saying what you feel all the time. Not being intimidated by authority. Living without compromise to a set of standards. And going through adversity, like the last decade, without dipping to incessant cynicism.
And last, to be able to live your life without the props of money and status and position, and still maintain your sense of humility in a life that is really quite short.
I am 62 years old. I hope I can pull off a few of these as the trail narrows.
Very eloquently said Mike. It’s interesting when people characterize others as “low class” or “high class”, indicating economic wealth. For me it is a matter of respect and how a person treats another that exhibits “class.” You hear people say that someone acted with a lot of “class” or was a “class act”, which usually means good behavior, graciousness, kindness and humility overall.
Words spoken with great class, Mr. B.
I would add, “Acceptance and appreciation for diversity.”
Life is so much more interesting when we are able to co-exist with and enjoy people of every race, religion, gender, and political POV. As more people become willing to accept with respect differences, the world becomes a more peaceful, tranquil place.
“…the encore mentality of a programmed consumer”. This is a great line. I may steal this (properly credited as to source, of course).
This is a nice piece of writing, Mike.
In general an excellent prescription with one small quibble.
Seldom in doubt about the right thing to do.
Seems to me that it is the people who are always sure of their inherited sense of right and wrong that are classless, and those who preach them most loudly the most classless.
Yes sir!
Class? To me, class is all the things that I lacked for the first 65 years of my life. Egotistical, self-centered, lying, whoring, cheating, a user. you name it, that was me.
That was until my son Harrison was born in the Old Pueblo on July 29, 2001. A day that changed my life forever.
It hit me as if a lighting bolt had struck. God was giving me one more chance to get it right. Don’t let this boy end up like Willi, your first one. Dead in the street on some rainy Christmas Eve.
Well, I sobered up enough to hit one of Tucson’s two $28,000 for 28 day Rehab joints and learned a hell of a lot about myself and the reasons why I drank.
But I continued to drink after I got home. Smarter, but still drinking.
So, as a last resort, I ended up going to this Papago Shaman on the reservation who I called Bob Manygoats for obvious reasons.
He put my problem into such simple terms that even I could understand how to stop.
“White Boy”, he said, “You drink for two reasons: You want to and you can. It’s just that simple.”
In Tucson the nearest Circle K and a qt. of vodka was 2 miles down Bear Canyon Road in the Ferrari. Here in East Jesus it’s 20 miles to the nearest Stop ‘n Rob. And I gave der Frau the keys to the Fazzaz for the first 60 days we were back here to make sure all the booze was out of my system. It’s been since Nov., 2005 now, but I sure do miss a cold Cerveza Pacifico to go with what the Hillbillys call Mexican food back here.
Now, getting back to class, To me it’s listening, not talking. Being respectful and polite. Not interupting. Driving a Ferrari, or any fine car, not to impress, but to be one with the machine Back here we all address others as Mr. Tommy, Miss Cheryl, Mr. Bob, or the like. Never just by the 1st name. Only children under 18 are addressed by 1st name only. The kids do the same.
When I came back here, the big city boy with the fancy sports car, boy was I ready to judge all the natives.
But after a few weeks back here, I found that I could only judge myself. If I live to be a hundred years old, I could only hope to be half as genuine and good as these people are. They really opened my eyes as to what real class is.
When I got sick and was in the hospital, theybrought over hot meals for my family, cut my lawn, took care of the hound, and asked nothing in return. Now that’s Class!
The median household income for our county is only $34,000 a year, but I submit that these people are richer and have far more class than any family in Beverley Hills.
I may jokingly call my town East Jesus, but it’s really Bismarck, Arkansas and I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else in the world right now.
Yer pal, Ferrari Bubba
Said like a true Marine Brewer!
It begins by accepting the fact that one thing we have in common with our fellow man is our lack of perfection