Behave yourself.
My mother, visiting New York a few weekends ago, suggested that we spend Sunday evening at a jazz club. Live jazz on Sunday, which has for the West Michigan visitor the same mysterious allure that making snow angels might have for residents of Death Valley, is always a pleasant activity. I agreed happily and we were soon the proud holders of reservations at a very nice jazz club with large windows overlooking the park. The particular venue is unique among the jazz clubs I have visited in that it is above ground and is accessed not by a dingy staircase but by an elevator, the call button of which is labeled “PUSH BUTTON TO JAZZ.”
The problem with a nice, above-ground venue with clearly labeled elevator buttons is that it lacks the intimidation factor of its downtown counterparts and has, one would assume based on the crowd, come into great favor among the city’s mid-range hotel concierges. Much of this burden has fallen upon the long-suffering hostess who was, on our arrival, engaged in explaining to a conspicuously wealthy French(?) couple concepts which they might better know as réservations and mandats de masque. Another visitor, slow to learn his lesson in Manhattan real estate, took a very long time to understand that it would be physically impossible to add three people to his reservation fifteen minutes before the sold-out performance while those of us who made our reservations properly languished in line behind him.
The jazz, of course, was spectacular, save for when the bandleader had to stop the show and demand “Are you with us??” of a group of twenty-somethings — doubtless led there by T*kT*k — who squandered their front row table by talking when they were not taking videos on their phones.
My mother, sensing my descent into apoplexy, suggested that “maybe people just need some time to adjust to group settings after being stuck inside for so long.” Perhaps this is true, though it is unfair that this adjustment should involve me. I do not need time to adjust to group settings and, if people live lives that are not governed by the guilt and shame that keeps the rest of society walking on the right and keeping their voices down, I wish that they would stay well clear of me.
Let us assume for a moment that my mother is correct. Let us assume that people who were not raised like my sister and I — that is, with neighbors who reported back on our behavior and with my father’s terrifying Koyaanisqatsi DVD to keep us in line — are not ignorant savages acting in bad faith (though they probably are). Perhaps they just need time and guidance to adjust to living properly in society.
It is for these people — hypothetical though they may be — that I offer today’s guidance. Rather than focus on good behaviors to be reinforced (saying “please” and “thank you,” holding doors, and so forth), which are not terribly interesting and are already well documented by Emily Post and her sort, I shall enumerate several Unacceptable Behaviors, which are to be avoided. The list, while not exhaustive, will at least prevent those who adhere to it from causing scenes, ruining other people’s (my) commutes or nights out, or otherwise Getting In The Way.
An Incomplete List of Unacceptable Behaviors in no particular order
Holding up a line by trying to make a reservation modification.
Holding up a line by trying to order a very complicated bagel sandwich or (even worse) order multiple bagels or (worst of all) ask a question, particularly between 8 and 9 a.m.
Using one’s phone in a performance venue when the lights are dimmed.
Causing any noise or light at all during a performance that is not applause.
Basing the timing of your applause on the applause of the people seated behind you in the cheaper seats.
Having enough money to sit in front of me in the more expensive seats.
Applause in church, especially before the benediction.
Running, except for buses and trains, or in emergencies.
Wearing a shirt without a collar outside of the home unless 1) you are going to (and only to) the trash chute down the hall or 2) the fire department has already been dispatched.
Running without a shirt, unless the fire department has already raised a third alarm.
Wearing a short-sleeved shirt outside of the home, especially if you are an airline pilot.
Going to the airport without a necktie.
Talking on your phone on an airplane, especially if you are a Silicon Valley Bank employee whose conversation includes unkind words about Detroit or the phrase “mortgage-backed securities” — especially both.
Using FaceTime in public, especially without headphones or on a bus, and especially without headphones on the M15 uptown between Grand Street and 14th Street last Friday afternoon.
Owning clothes with words on them.
Owning anything with words on it that is not a book, a wayfinding sign of demonstrable utility (not “this way to the beach”), or a piece of paper that is not decorative, especially if those words are “Good Vibes Only.”
L*s Ang*les.
Enjoying — or giving the public appearance of enjoying — outdoor temperatures above 79º.
Vacationing intentionally in warm places.
Amplifying any sound, especially if you run a food service establishment.
Listening to any radio station that is not NPR, especially if the programming includes loud advertisements for pre-owned vehicles.
Standing on the left side of the escalator.
Using Ub*r, unless you are going to stand on the left side of the escalator or at any point yell, “Hold the door!” if you take the train.
Using Ub*r Eats, unless you are going to ask questions or otherwise hold up the line if you pick up your food yourself.
Taking photographs in such a way that people on the sidewalk have to stop to be polite, especially if you appear to be in love.
Being in love in public, especially if you are going to make a big scene of your proposal in the spot where I am trying to read.
Dirt bikes.
Sitting on the ground, especially if you have already graduated from kindergarten.
T*kT*k.
Asking if I have heard of “the serenity prayer.”
Distractions
Things I have been reading, watching, and listening to this week.
“It’s Bama Rush season already?” by Rebecca Jennings in Vox.
I am unable, after offering a list of thirty items of Unacceptable Behavior, to account for my morbid fascination with whatever is happening in this article, which concerns the annual cycle of T*kT*k trends. I do not use T*kT*k and have no intention of doing so. Like illicit drugs, I am sure it must be pleasurable or people would not do it, but I am certain that it would have terrible consequences for me (and I am quite skeptical of anything pleasurable in the first place).
Even so, T*kT*k has begun to seep out of its app-based containment and into something resembling cultural ubiquity. While we are all worse for this, it does necessitate that the rest of us acquire at least a cursory familiarity with the platform, preferably through secondary sources.
Take, for example, Bama Rush, in which the women of the University of Alabama compete for spots in sororities. Bama Rush, we are told, takes over T*kT*k this time of year. Everything about Bama Rush is Unacceptable Behavior, and it has avoided the above list owing only to the fact that it is so completely foreign — so utterly detached from my idea of reality — that to even consider it would be unthinkable.
This pair of videos on dishwashers and their detergents from Technology Connections on YouTube.
When I moved into an apartment with a dishwasher after not having one for three years, I told myself that it would fix all of the problems in my life and that I would finally find peace and happiness. That is a tall order for a $200 appliance that just cleans dishes, but it has delivered on the promise. It is a splendid machine indeed.
Several months into dishwasher ownership, my new quest is to become the best dishwasher owner that I can be — to load the machine better, use the best detergent, and so on. These two videos — well more than an hour combined (but good and fun!) — are the best resource on the exact function of dishwashers, dishwasher detergents, and how we are all washing our dishes wrong. It is impossible to be a good dishwasher owner without understanding the process, the chemistry, and everything else.
For example, dishes need both enzymes and bleach to be properly cleaned, but the products cancel each other out in liquid or gel detergent and can only effectively be delivered in a powder, which makes powder detergent better and more effective. Now you have the burden and responsibility of this knowledge and, unlike the halcyon days of moments ago when you were ignorant, cannot know peace until you have finally replaced your detergent packs and bottles of gel with powder.