Are you a Pragmatist or a Dreamer? Do you prefer to spend your time in reality or a world all your own?

For whatever reason, this question has been on my mind a lot lately, possibly because there is such a dichotomy staring me in the face every day. Reality TV vs scripted drama. Non-fiction reading vs novels. Documentaries vs movies. Improvisational theater vs a musical show. Symphony vs opera. Rock concert vs mp3-player. Anderson Cooper vs Jon Stewart.

Obviously, all of us need to spend at least some of our time in reality–balancing checkbooks, making sure there’s food on the table, looking for cars before crossing the street. Basic, real-world activities. But, we can’t forget the non-real pleasures like losing yourself in a good novel, or the adrenalin rush of a suspense thriller (or a roller-coaster).

I know any number of people who pride themselves on being hard-core realists–they never read anything other than business sites, newspapers, or other forms of non-fiction. If they watch something on television other than the news, it’s, possibly, a sports broadcast, or the food network. Spending time on something fictional is considered unproductive. How can something “untrue” help their business? Sloppy, make-believe thinking is just a distraction, and being “creative” is a waste of time.

Needless to say, I think that’s short-sighted. How many practical, successful inventions started with a dream? “What if we didn’t have to hand-write every book, but could come up with a way to print them?” “What if there were a way to light a room with electricity?” “What if we sliced the bread before we sold it?” “What if we take that round thing and turn it into a wheel?”

If you don’t open yourself up to things that aren’t “real,” you could be missing out on a wealth of opportunities.

I’m not saying that everybody should stop writing whatever it is they write to focus on fluffy, dreamy poetry. Or that they should embrace their inner sculptor, or start meditating to find their inner artist. Oh, no. Fairy tales are (mostly) for children and the occasional recreational moment. The “real world” demands hard work, and happily ever after only happens after you’ve paid your dues and fought for it. Right?

Well, yes and no. But certainly, opening yourself up to the possibility of thinking creatively can only be a good thing. A new way to describe something without using a cliche. A new way to market your product. A new way to cook chicken for dinner. A chance to be the first on your block to have a nifty new idea that will revolutionize life as we know it.

You can’t depend that your fairy godmother is going to wave her wand and make all your dreams come true, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t leave her an opening, in case she wants to.

Here’s a tricky question for you: Do you demand perfection? Of yourself? Of others?

It’s a hard one, isn’t it? Personally, I feel that I’m about one, short step away from being a perfectionist–I know that perfection is impossible to achieve, and yet my standards of behavior are quite high. I don’t expect every book I read to be perfectly copy-edited, but am frustrated if I find more than one or two errors. I don’t expect the house to be neat as a pin every minute of the day, but I can’t stand clutter piling up. I don’t expect my practically-perfect dog, Chappy, to walk at heel when we stroll around the neighborhood, but I expect him not to pull on his leash.

Then, I wonder if my standards are too high? Can I really expect Chappy not to get excited and pull on his leash when he sees one of his best friends? And the writing desk in my bedroom is rather more covered with stuff than I would like–yet the pile, while manageable, never entirely goes away. That’s okay, though, because, really, who wants to feel like they’re living in a museum? Or has a Stepford Dog? Robotic perfection simply isn’t human.

So, is it a good or a bad thing to expect people to live up to virtually-impossible ideals of behavior? To have perfect manners, to write thank you notes, to be dressed nicely at all times? To always signal before they turn at an intersection? To return library books on time, always repay their debts, donate time and money to worthy causes, all while being kind to children and small animals?

The truth is that nobody can meet Miss. Manners’ standards for every minute of every day. (No, not even I.) So why even try? Is it because we’re all just trying to get through our days, our lives as painlessly as possible? Is it a matter of respect for one another? Is it all just for the sake of appearances? Or is it something more?

Personally, I think it’s a little of all these things, but also something more–an attempt to be the best that we can be. Not necessarily the best in a given role–the best accountant, the best parent, the best chef–but the best self. I strive to be the best Deb I can be, with all my faults. I know that perfection isn’t attainable, but really, I owe it to myself to try.

This has always been a word that intrigued me. Its root comes from “Holy Day,” of course, but it’s come to mean so much more. It’s used for a day off work or for a religious holy day. The Brits (”We’re going on holiday to the Brighton”) use it the same way we Americans use vacation (”We’re going on vacation to Martha’s Vineyard.)

And yet, it doesn’t so much have the “holy” connotation any more, does it? Even the very-religious holidays like Easter. Mostly, holidays these days seem to be a reason to gather family and friends, possibly exchange gifts or greeting cards, but without so much a “religious” emphasis, even for the ones that are fundamentally religious in nature.

And then there are days like, say, Thanksgiving which we’re celebrating here in the US today–a day for family, a day to be generally thankful, and a day to eat lots and lots of turkey and the essential trimmings (not to mention pie). No religious connotations whatsoever … except, when you get down to it, while going to church or temple or mosque and communing with God is a spiritually-important thing, in this day and age, isn’t it also important to commune with your family and loved ones? It may not be “holy,” exactly, but we live in a busy, hectic age, and to me, family will always be the most important focus, and having a day dedicated to spending it with them in thanks and good fellowship?

Perfect. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone–wherever you are!

hol·i·day

O.E. haligdæg, from halig “holy” + dæg “day;” in 14c. meaning both “religious festival” and “day of recreation,” but pronunciation and sense diverged 16c.

–noun

1. a day fixed by law or custom on which ordinary business is suspended in commemoration of some event or in honor of some person.
2. any day of exemption from work (distinguished from working day)
3. a time or period of exemption from any requirement, duty, assessment, etc.: New businesses may be granted a one-year tax holiday.
4. a religious feast day; holy day, esp. any of several usually commemorative holy days observed in Judaism.
5. sometimes, holidays. Chiefly British. a period of cessation from work or one of recreation; vacation.
6. an unintentional gap left on a plated, coated, or painted surface.

–adjective

1. of or pertaining to a festival; festive; joyous: a holiday mood.
2. suitable for a holiday: holiday attire.

–verb (used without object)

1. Chiefly British. to vacation: to holiday at the seaside.

Also, coincidentally, Joanna was asking about “holiday” just the other day. What does holiday mean to you?

Let’s be clear: Civility and Civilization do not depend on knowing when to shake someone’s hand, or which fork to use at dinner. Decisions about whether the short version of “electronic mail” should be spelled with or without a hyphen are not earth-shaking. You don’t have to look down your nose at those enthusiastic e-mails with a multitude of exclamation points. If you’ve had a long day, it’s not even mandatory that you give up your seat on the bus.

When you add all these things together, though, along with road rage, the “familiarity breeds contempt” aspect of e-mail and the internet, and the fact that nobody appears to get dressed up for anything other than the occasional wedding any more . . . then it starts to look like we’re getting too casual about everything.

There was an episode of the sitcom “Just Shoot Me” in 1998 where the fashion expert, Nina Van Horn, comes to the office upset because she’d just seen the movie Titanic and was distraught. “All those beautiful clothes! People don’t make clothing like that anymore Everyone talks about the absentee father, but it’s casual wear that’s ruining society.” She may have exaggerated just a tad (grin), but maybe she wasn’t completely wrong.

We’ve come a long way from Jane Austen’s era when every daily detail was proscribed by etiquette. I wouldn’t want to go back to that strict set of rules any more than I’d want to go back to wearing a corset, but even as little as forty years ago, people wore hats every day, wore suits when they travelled, and got dressed for the theater. Being comfortable is a good thing, but the addiction to comfort is insidious. Why wear a skirt if jeans will do? Why wear a neck tie if you can get away with a polo shirt? Why hold the door when women’s lib so clearly made the point that women want to be treated equally to men? Why bother with spelling when it’s just an e-mail to a friend?

Except . . . what if it’s a formal business meeting? Or a funeral? There are every-day occasions where formality is still important. What if that woman you’re not holding the door for has her arms full of groceries–or a child? What about a woman holding the door for a man with his arms full?

None of these things are mandatory, but a certain amount of politeness is the oil that helps keep society running smoothly. Even if the sales clerk too busy chatting on the phone to ring up your order doesn’t seem to deserve any respect, don’t you owe it to yourself to be the best member of society you can be? Lead by example. It’s a matter of respect, after all . . . for yourself as much as for other people.

Since this blog is called “Punctuality Rules!,” let’s talk about punctuality, shall we? To quote myself, “Punctuality is not just about making meetings on time, but about being exact. It’s about doing what needs to be done at exactly the time it should be done. To me, that’s an issue that transcends mere punctuation.” This is true, but punctuality is primarily about being on time. This is important for so many reasons, but the main one, to me, is about respect. When you make an appointment with someone–a doctor, a hair-stylist, a friend, a date–it’s a social contract, an agreement to be at the same place at the same time. There’s a reasonable amount of leeway built in to this agreement. A few minutes for bad traffic, a sick child, a broken heel on your shoe is understandable. Life happens. I don’t think there’s a single person who hasn’t had to wait for somebody at some point in their life.

However, there are people who are chronically late. Always. My best friend in high school was regularly 10 minutes late whenever we’d get together. I learned to adapt, even if that meant I spent a lot of time hanging out in her hallway while she ran around after her coat, her gloves, her bookbag. It was marginally inconvenient, but more like a personal quirk. But then there are the people who are unreasonably late. One of my father’s friends when he was in high school was so constantly late that when his group of buddies would make plans, they would automatically tell him to meet them an hour earlier than the actual time. Even worse, a relative of my brother-in-law is regularly hours late to any family event. For a recent family party that started at 12:00 noon, she showed up around 7:00. Seven hours late, with no apology whatsoever, even though she arrived just in time to interfere with the hostess trying to get her 8-month old baby down for a much-needed nap.

I really can’t help but wonder how this ever became acceptable behavior. In fact, I don’t think that it is acceptable. A few minutes? I can make allowances–especially if young children are involved–but anything more than, say, 15 minutes requires explanation. First, there should absolutely be a phone call to say, “I’m running late but I’m on my way.” This is mandatory. It’s not nice to leave the people you’re meeting worrying that you’ve been run over by a bus–whether it’s a business meeting or a social event, that’s just not cool.

More than that, though, the people who are chronically late . . . the ones you can rely on to show up well behind everybody else . . . to my mind, they are nothing but selfish. Don’t they realize that everybody has a schedule? Everybody has things to juggle, obligations to meet, but as I said earlier, an appointment is its own obligation. If you’ve made a committment to show up, you show up. Period. Unless there’s an emergency, in which case, again, you call. It’s not like it’s impossible to find a phone these days. There’s probably one in your pocket right now.

If it’s a business appointment, arriving late is unprofessional and it’s going to reflect badly on you for having kept your compatriot waiting–as if their time is worth less than yours. Which, let’s face it, unless you’re Donald Trump, is not the case. If it’s a social engagement, showing up late just implies that you don’t care enough about the other person to bother. Which probably isn’t the case, either, or why would you bother to agree to meet in the first place?

Like I said, it’s a matter of respect. A little decency. An acknowledgment that the world doesn’t revolve around any one person’s schedule. Unless you’re the King or Queen. If you’re wearing a crown, I suppose I’m willing to make allowances. After all, travelling with an entourage can be time-consuming. For the rest of us, though? You learned to tell time in kindergarten, right? There was a reason for that.

I just spent the weekend immersed in the world of knit-bloggers at the NY Sheep and Wool Festival in Rhinebeck, NY. One of the highlights–other than access to a whole lot of beautiful yarn and spinning fibers–was meeting the other bloggers. Like any community, many of us read one another’s blogs, exchange e-mails, and were anxious to see each other face to face, and, as always at events like these, it was the socializing that made it so much fun.

One of the unique features, though . . . and, I promise that I’m getting this post on-topic . . . is an invention called “Blogger Bingo.” There were actual bingo cards made up of the names of bloggers wanting to be target “squares,” and throughout the day, people ran around, approaching complete strangers, asking, “You’re a square? Who are you? Are you on my card?” Mind you, the “squares” were all volunteers and every “square” was required to wear something that announced that fact, so innocent bystanders were left unaccosted, and the “approaching strangers” part wasn’t quite so rude as it sounds. It was, in fact, a huge amount of fun.

But it got me thinking. I happily participated in Blogger Bingo and thoroughly enjoyed the giddy buzz it generated around the fairgrounds, but could this sort of thing possibly have happened at any other time in history? Bloggers–no matter what the topic–are a geographically far-flung group. Not all blogs are part of a true “community,” of course. Some people just blog quietly about family events in their own little corner of the internet; some are blogging in niches that are too impersonal or too competitive to be able to build a communal sense of anything. Even when they can be considered a community, though–like knit-bloggers–they are an unusual one because, even with regular e-mails and the occasional in-person meeting, as a rule, bloggers don’t usually SEE each other.

So, it’s certainly unique (to say the least) to be able to pull a group of dozens of people who only “know” each other via the internet and let them loose in a crowd of hundreds and expect them to find each other. Then, when they do, naturally, different rules have to apply for them to be able to interact. If you know someone by exchanging e-mails and blog-comments, does that make it more or less awkward when you meet in person? Do you immediately act as if the person is a true, real friend and greet them with a hug or a warm handshake? Or do you hang back and stick to the more formal, “Nice to meet you” manners you use with a new acquaintance? Has there ever been a time where this could even happen? There have always been conventions and symposiums where people with similar interests have congregrated, and certainly friendships would be struck up and renewed over time, but blogging–and the internet in general–is such a unique medium in the way it combines real life with electronic forms of closeness.

And then, I like to talk about “Civilization” and how manners and good grammar are things that we should all pay a little more attention to, and then something like this happens. I’ve heard that there are “old-timers” at this festival who hate the bloggers that come because they’re (supposedly) rowdy and pushy and rude. They’d like it to go back to the older, quieter days when knitters were more . . . well, sane . . . despite the fact that the bloggers and their friends are spending lots of money and have made this festival immensely more profitable. So, is this giddy craziness a step forward? Or backward? A sign of encroaching selfish behavior, with the bloggers not caring whose booth they block while they squeal with delight? A symbol of the growing laxity in anything overly formal (like, say, spelling conventions)? Or is the sense of community more important? It’s hard to see such happy enthusiasm as a bad thing, but what if it is?

And, if it is a bad sign of encroaching selfishness, what does it say about me when I enjoyed it so much? Darn, I hate being a hypocrite…. (grin)

I have a book called Civility: Manners, Morals, and the Etiquette of Democracy by Stephen L. Carter. It talks about the collapse of basic manners, how they have “become a casualty of our postmodern culture.” You already know that this is one of my favorite themes, and, in fact, I recommend this book quite a bit.

He opens the book with an analogy which has become a favorite of mine. About how, in the 19th century, people travelled in groups because only the very rich could afford to travel alone. He says,

“Well, of course: to travel so far together, packed shoulder to shoulder like chess pieces in their little box, everybody had to behave or the ride would become intolerable. Everyone followed the rules for the sake of their fellow passengers, and they did so, as one historian has noted, out of a spirit of self-denial and the self-sacrifice of one’s own comfort for another’s.”

There was, you understand, a sense of “we’re all in this together.” Everybody was crowded, everybody had to endure the same discomforts of travel, but everybody collectively gritted their teeth because that was the only way it was bearable, by working together to keep it as civilized as possible. He goes on to say,

“But nowadays we have automobiles, and we travel both long and short distances surrounded by metal and glass and the illusion that we are travelling alone. The illusion has seeped into every crevice of our public and private lives, persuading us that sacrifices are no longer necessary. If railroad passengers a century ago knew the journey would be impossible unless they considered the comfort of others more important than their own, our spreading illusion has taken us in the other direction. We care less and less about our fellow citizens, because we no longer see them as our fellow passengers. We see them as obstacles or competitors, or we may not see them at all.”

This is such a brilliant observation, don’t you think? How often have you walked down the street and seen other people listening to iPods, talking on cellphones, completely caught up in their own, private worlds? I often count myself lucky if they’re paying enough attention not to walk into me as they wander along. People go shopping in their pajamas; they think nothing of cutting in line. They meander across parking lots, never glancing over their shoulders to see if there’s a car coming. Because, of course, the world revolves around them. Not only are they not travelling with the rest of us, they’re riding a float in their own little parade, condescendingly waving to the crowd.

Not everyone does this, naturally. (I’m sure you don’t.) Most of the people I know have, at some time or another, shaken their heads when witnessing behaviors such as these, just because they’re not normal behaviors. In fact, many people do check for cars before stepping into a roadway, or thoughtfully hold doors for other people. It’s just the fact that these annoying, selfish behaviors seem to become more common all the time that’s so worrying.

Because, really, we ARE all travelling through this life together. Don’t we owe it to our fellow passengers to make the ride as easy as possible?

So, continuing our discussion about the importance of appearance as well as substance, and the hope that we’re not going to let several millennia of civilization collapse in a text-messaging, pictogram-riddled heap at our feet, let’s talk about details, shall we?

It is sadly clear that there are a number of people out there who do not care in the least whether they write, spell, or speak correctly. These poor misguided souls have no idea that they’re lacking an important human imperative (to communicate clearly), having managed to ignore grammar-teaching school teachers for years, and are quite happy to live in ignorant bliss. There’s really nothing I could say to change their minds (even assuming they were reading this at all).

For the rest of us, though, forwarding Civilization through the cause of good grammar and basic manners is all about the details. I don’t (only) mean the details about knowing when to use a comma, or when it’s polite to give up your seat on the bus. Details such as these are important, yes, to live in a well-oiled, free-flowing society. It’s always nice to have something done correctly.

The details I mean, though, are the deeper ones, not just the superficial ones. Not just the rules themselves, but the “Why” behind the rules . . . or rather, why they are important. The e-mail-fostered laziness behind some lagging spelling standards does not, in itself, mean that Western Civilization is collapsing, but if we don’t stop to examine why it’s a troubling sign we’re all in trouble.

I am not the only person who feels like they’re shouting in the wind about “Correct grammar can save you!” I certainly don’t want to sound like a stodgy, old mothballed coot, either, yammering about the “good old days.” But the point isn’t that the “old days” were better. I’m not recommending going backward to the mythical, polite days of yore when everybody’s handwriting was legible, I just want to make sure that the future is healthy.

So, an analogy: Don’t think of me as a pundit talking about grammar. Think of me as your doctor, urging you to exercise and eat right, not to mention flossing after meals. When you’re young, you shrug it off, yeah, yeah, some day. But one day you’re struck with aches and pains and tooth decay and you shrug that off, too. Just the price of getting older, take a little aspirin, whatever. But then, suddenly, it’s diabetes, and heart disease. Lung cancer from all those smoky nights with friends. Things that are bad and scary and serious . . . and that could have been prevented.

My urging people to pay closer attention to the way they express themselves, the way they communicate with each other? That’s like telling you to take a multi-vitamin and the occasional stroll around the block. It might not save your life, but it might just make enough of a difference to your health that you can avoid that grammatical heart attack later on, you know, when nobody knows the correct spelling of “through.”

Appearance isn’t quite everything.Our modern world may appear to be quite superficial, at a glance. First impressions are key. The old saw, “You only have one chance to make a first impression,” is just as true as it ever was. There are entire industries based on helping people figure out what to wear, how to present themselves. Of course, nobody needs to be told that there are plenty of people out there who are all about the impression they make–People who drive status-automobiles, own huge houses, dress to the nines, all that.

Ultimately, though, presentation–whether it’s showy, professional, casual, fun, serious–is just the beginning. A first impression can’t hide the true essence forever. Have you ever seen an incredibly attractive person you couldn’t wait to meet, but who, after a 5 minute conversation, you couldn’t wait to leave? Good looks can only get you so far.

Style and Substance need to go hand in hand to be truly impressive. A website can have all the classy, elegant style it needs to make a fabulous impression upon first click, but if the author can’t string two complete sentences together without misspellings and grammatical errors, the damage to the “impression” is going to be irreparable. Is it vital that every word you write be perfect, every punctuation mark exactly placed, every grammatical rule followed? Well, no, not exactly. We all
use prepositions at the end of sentences from time to time (starting a sentence with “and” is one of my personal favorite rules to ignore), but you can generally tell the difference between someone who knows what they’re doing and makes an occasional error and someone who doesn’t have a clue.

The important thing is to be able to back up your first impression. If you want to come across as smart and authoritative in whatever field you’re in, you need to show that you have the goods. To show that you have not just the expertise needed to make money, train a dog, cook a meal, but that you can present those ideas in such a way that your readers will believe you. It’s a paradoxical truth that, to be taken seriously, you need to show that you’re serious. You may have all the knowledge in the world, but if you sound like an uneducated hick, who’s ever going to believe you? One misspelling isn’t necessarily going to ruin an entire sales pitch, wouldn’t your readers be more likely to believe someone who sounds like they know what they’re doing, rather than someone who sounds like they just fell off the turnip truck?

I know I would.