tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79586208049323297.post7958930464445517551..comments2011-09-26T15:58:12.297-04:00Comments on my damn wedding: The Voices in My Head Think I'm Tacky; To Which I Say: "Suck It, Voices." :)Marehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13690513380972700595noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79586208049323297.post-48948717140042125112011-04-08T00:16:50.942-04:002011-04-08T00:16:50.942-04:00INCREDIBLY LONG BUT HIGHLY AMUSING COMMENT CONTINU...INCREDIBLY LONG BUT HIGHLY AMUSING COMMENT CONTINUES:<br /><br />Not long after reading these kindly and wise words, late one afternoon in my freshman year at the University of Richmond I was on the Westhampton 16 bus, which started at my college bus stop on its way to downtown Richmond. At this point, I should say that this was in September, 1967. This bus was mostly used by University of Richmond students, staff, and faculty, elderly rich white ladies, and domestic servants, who were always black ladies in those days. Not far down the route of the Westhampton 16 the bus was full. At the next stop, a very tired looking and elderly lady, who appeared to be one of the said domestic servants, boarded the bus. I looked around and saw that there was no vacant seat. I thought, Ah! Here's my opportunity to be A Gentleman. I rose and offered the Lady my seat. She looked at me as if I were about to turn into a unicorn, but she took the seat promptly. I then beat my gentlemanly retreat to the back of the bus. Upon turning round to face the front again, I was rather surprised to see absolutely everyone on the bus looking at me as if I had just removed all of my clothing and then turned into a unicorn – a chartreuse one. Although I had been aware of the civil rights movement as part of the historical background of my childhood and teen years, I had no idea that I had done anything worthy of notice. I thought manners applied to everybody. I was still pining for my high school girlfriend and was pretty much oblivious of most other matters, thinking them largely irrelevant to my own inner “Sorrows of Young Werther.”<br /><br />I am not sure what happened next, but I think the bus driver braked suddenly, causing everybody, color and bank balance notwithstanding, to turn back around to see whether they were about to become statistics. I went back to reading Joseph Andrews, by Henry Fielding, to see which randy female English aristocrat was going to be next to comment upon how “well-formed” he was.<br /><br />I guess that my observance of Mrs. Vanderbilt's rules was not a high point in the history of race relations in America, but I have to wonder what might have happened if I had been born a little earlier and had been on the bus when Mrs. Parks was commanded to surrender her seat. Would I have offered her mine after reading an etiquette book at my grandmother's house?<br /><br />So, do not worry about rules made by people like Martha Stewart. She probably never rode a bus in her life.Eric Dobbshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11632698660559876464noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79586208049323297.post-35613638314782932602011-04-08T00:13:23.911-04:002011-04-08T00:13:23.911-04:00A word about etiquette (a French word that is hard...A word about etiquette (a French word that is hard to spell correctly):<br /><br />The only rule of etiquette that counts it the Golden one. This means that you should treat those you choose to invite to your wedding as you would wish to be treated. If you think to yourself, “gee, if I don't send this person a “letterpress” invitation, she will fly around the room backwards with steam coming out of her navel,” then this is probably not someone you want at your wedding, anyway. You would not want her to endure such an ordeal nor alarm your other guests, so it would be cruel not to meet her expectations of stationery.<br /><br />A note on perspective: really, do you think that a hundred years from now you will be on your deathbed and think to yourself, “gosh, it would all have turned out better if I had bitten the bullet and gone with the letterpress.” And, you know, it might have! You may be sending a non-letterpress invitation to a secret billionaire wedding guest who would put you in her will, if only you would send her a letterpress invitation. But not likely. If I had a billion dollars, I would be thinking of amusing and creative ways to get rid of it and not be so concerned about satisfying convicted felon Martha Stewart's feelings about tissue paper in envelopes with all that other expensive paper that is made out of other people's worn out underwear (really – I could elaborate, but not now). (By the way, that's not really fair. I think she was chosen as the sacrificial ewe lamb to distract the press and the public from The Shrub's buddies and high administration officials, who were far guiltier than she was of miscellaneous rich folks' financial no-nos of the early 2000s – the penultimate time they got caught stealing the not especially hard-earned money of the middle class.) (Rule to Live By: Never miss a chance to use the word “penultimate.”) But, I digress (several times, but at least I avoided nested parentheticals – using a dash instead).<br /><br />Back to etiquette, you've probably heard this story, but your legions of readers have not, so I will let fly. At some time before I went to college, I found myself at my grandmother's (Nanny Dobbs') house without reading matter. I was not particularly discriminating in my choice of reading matter, sometimes reading ketchup bottle labels in restaurants, so I settled for a Book of Etiquette by some rich white lady who must have had A LOT of time on her hands. Among the lessons in this authoritative tome was what a Gentleman should do, if a Lady boarded a bus or other public conveyance in which he was riding and she was unable to find an empty seat. The Gentleman was advised to rise and offer his seat to the Lady, and, if she accepted the seat, to retreat quickly as far away as possible so as not to appear to loom over her, waiting to recover the seat should she disembark before him.<br /><br />AT THIS POINT, I MUST POST ANOTHER COMMENT -- STUPID CHARACTER LIMIT.Eric Dobbshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11632698660559876464noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79586208049323297.post-83699587393339673802011-04-07T01:08:35.389-04:002011-04-07T01:08:35.389-04:00I love this post. It made me laugh out loud and re...I love this post. It made me laugh out loud and read portions to boyfriend. Also, you used the word 'ergo,' which you know I love and always associate with you! :) happy days!crystaljoyyyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03491854638425603151noreply@blogger.com