MountainMornings

My Zoom call with siblings ended Sunday on a funny note. I was recalling the Bug’s latest basketball game, and a conversation with some parents afterwards – it seems a mom was arranging for a past Miss Tennessee beauty queen to give a two hour “etiquette and table manners” lesson. I was listening politely, the Groom whipped out his phone and was interested in the date, and all of a sudden the Bride said, “NO!” It was unequivocal, this was not happening. Her reaction surprised me, but the Groom just shot me one of those, ‘you raised her’ looks and that. was. that. Kay burst out laughing.

My brother Dr Jim, the psychologist, put his palm to his forehead and suggested I read about social modeling. Albert Bandura was a pioneering psychologist in the 60s. After Jim returned from Vietnam, it wouldn’t surprise me if he and Al met up at a conference in Big Sur. Bandura synthesized the swinging sixtie’s cognitive behavioral models of learning. In a nutshell, he developed Social Learning Theory (SLT). Imagine a Venn diagram with “Behavioral Factors” in one circle, “Environmental Factors” in another, and “Personal Factors” in another which would include ‘…cognition, affective and biological events’; SLT lies at its intersection.

So if we learn best from observation and modeling certain behaviors, was my brother telling me that the Bride was right? Would teaching young girls the rules of etiquette be a modern day equivalent of binding their feet? And what would Barbie say about all this… Well she would want me to be grateful like a pageant winner should be. I have a few people to thank for teaching me table manners:

The Flapper taught me how to set a table and to cut meat one piece at a time. She also demonstrated which fork goes with what dish. Of course, NJ in 1959, when I was the Bug’s age, wasn’t Victorian England – we didn’t have to grapple with oyster forks.

Mr B, my step-father the judge, would occasionally look across the table straight at me and bark, “Is your head tired?” So I learned not to slump or rest my elbows on the table, and therefore my head in my hand at dinner. Plus, I was never allowed to read at the table, that was considered just plain rude.

My big sister Kay always had a bit of wisdom to impart whenever we’d eat out in a swanky NYC restaurant. Most importantly she taught me to NEVER pick up a whole piece of bread and shove it in my mouth. “You break a small piece of bread off, butter it and voila.” These days I try not to inhale the bread bowl before a fancy meal; but at least when I can’t resist, like at Red Lobster, I’m breaking bread daintily.

In retrospect, I’m proud of my feminist Bride who said they don’t give boys etiquette lessons! Maybe if it was co-ed? When my daughter was a college student in Paris she did take some kind of wine and dine course, but it was for American students of both sexes. They learned which wine to serve with each course, and they learned about the history and art of haute cuisine. So very French, n’est ce pas?

Table manners are the least of most girls’ worries. Pre-teens must not only deal with the usual hormones and peer pressure of yesteryear, but also the voracious social media messages to chase perfection today, to filter their image and emotions; not to mention the potential for horrific online bullying. Makes me glad my foster mother Nell always said, “What would the neighbors think?” She taught me by modeling her insecurity, not to care what others thought of me. Some might argue, this wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

Does one keep one’s hat on at an outdoor beach restaurant? Mais OUI!