Is It Just Me?: Or is it Nuts Out There? (11 page)
Chapter 40
An Elevator Is Like a Bathroom
I like people. Crowds . . . ? Uh . . . no thanks.
For instance, there’s a special place in my heart for people who love to stand right in front of me, blocking that escalator while they check their cell phones. No there isn’t. Same as there isn’t for the hand-holders . . . those groups of people who walk—no, saunter—four or five abreast on a sidewalk like it’s some . . . I don’t know . . . sweep operation.
The elbows-out people are lots of fun too. It’s not enough that they are loitering in a narrow aisle of the store . . . Why not supersize the obstruction by putting both hands on the hips and poking those wings out? And then they walk a circle, just to add to the sport. Score an extra ten points if they are wearing huge backpacks and earphones so they can’t hear your polite request to get their butt out of the way . . . By saying, “Excuse me, please,” of course. Of course!
Moving around well on foot is a lost art. When I was a kid and you walked down the sidewalk with a guy, he was always supposed to be on the street side. They say it was a throwback to the days when the streets were not well paved and a gentleman didn’t want the woman to get splashed by water from a passing car. I thought it was kind of dopey but, hey . . . at least everybody knew where to be.
On subways or commuter trains, there’s an unwritten law of flow for that too. Although . . . as you have probably noticed . . . a lot of people don’t seem to know it. Maybe because it’s an unwritten law. So as a public service, let me write it here:
When you’re getting onto a subway, wait for the people to get off.
Simple as that. Astoundingly, crowds still try to get out
and
in at the same time. Know what that is called? That is called a line of scrimmage. It makes no sense and drives people crazy. Why don’t people wait for everyone to get off first? It’s because they’re afraid they’re not going to get on. Listen. If they would just step to the side so that people don’t have to push them out of the way to get off of the thing, chances are they would actually get on
faster
because it would be a clear path. It’s not only polite, it’s common sense. But who says we have a surplus of those two things? Not I.
I guess the same thing applies to people getting on and off of elevators. Another peeve of mine. Yours too? Need I ask?
Ninety percent of people waiting for an elevator stand in front of the friggin’ door. How come? Because they’re not thinking that maybe . . . just maybe . . . other people are going to be on that elevator, and they’re probably going to want to get off. Generally, the dance step is to stand to the side so everybody can get off without having to collide with a wall of humanity. Just like subways, elevators are give-and-take spaces. And work best in that order, meaning . . . give before you take.
Like life itself.
And if you’re already on the elevator, standing in front of the panel, sing out. Ask people what floor they want. Most folks are cool about this. In my experience, most people who are in front of the panel will ask . . . If not, just speak up and say, “Would you press three for me, please?”
“Please?” Wow. They won’t know what to do.
Elevators are awkward spaces. You get in there and what are you supposed to do? You’re supposed to just sort of stand there until you get where you’re going. But folks are always uncomfortable. People get onto an elevator and they’re not smiling, so that makes people even more uncomfortable. They think, “OK, now I’ve got to stand here with this . . . stranger.”
The elevator is like the bathroom. Once you’re in there, you have a few moments to think about what you need to do. And other people can make it feel uncomfortable. That’s why people get so annoyed when people are speaking loudly on the elevator. It’s also irritating when someone gets on wearing earbuds cranking music at max volume. It’s probably why they don’t pump in Muzak anymore. Who needs the Percy Faith Orchestra playing “Muskrat Love” when you can enjoy the tinny crap bleeding out of the Human Resources guy’s skull?
It’s also like the bathroom because people avoid eye contact. Those doors close and folks suddenly get elevator eyes. That’s because, I find, most people don’t know how to interact in that little box. So when you smile and say, “Hey.” They go, “Oh . . . somebody’s talking . . . What? Oh, hey.” There is nothing wrong with a little “How you doin’, hey.” And, you know, it does make the day a tiny bit brighter when you get on an elevator and you’re greeted.
You don’t have to have a deep, personal relationship with this person. But it’s just acknowledgment. Just to acknowledge I’m in this tiny little space with you. And that we’re all uncomfortable. But it’ll be all right.
And now that that’s done, everybody stare up at the numbers . . .
Chapter 41
Encourage Your Kids to Play by Themselves
Somebody sent me this wonderful thing for my birthday . . . an observation about the differences between generations. One of them said if you were born between 1930 and 1969, you grew up going outside and staying out from eight o’clock in the morning in the summertime until five o’clock. And no one was freaked out that you weren’t home. Nobody. That’s true. We did all kinds of things because our parents demanded that we go outside and socialize.
“Get out and play!”
You had to do it. And you know what happened? You learned how to make friends. You learned how to navigate . . . well . . . Life.
For some reason, children now are not taught how to be independent. As a kid, because I had to go out and play, I knew the outside world. This generation knows a computer screen. They don’t seem to know they can go outside.
There’s a generation of parents now who hardly get to see who their kids are friends with. Because they don’t come to your home. They’re all on the computer. You have to take your kid’s word for it that they’re even real people.
We had imaginary friends. Theirs are virtual.
So there are certain aspects of all of this that are really hard for me and a lot of people to understand. And somehow, folks younger than me—parents that are younger than me—don’t seem to remember the days of having to go outside and play. The days when you got out there and met people . . . and dealt with the world.
You know, back when you went to the library—the what??
Yeah. And not the library that was a folder on your computer’s desktop. The library that was a place. The library where you had to interact with—the librarian! You had to learn how to ask questions. You had to wait. Your. Turn. You had to learn how to navigate where you were. You learned how to do it by going . . . By getting out there and having to do the work—in person. It’s just a very different time now.
Many parents now don’t understand what their kids are studying in school. So there isn’t a way to engage because the adults don’t follow what the kids are doing. You can’t be as involved as you would like if you don’t understand it yourself. So that connection is fading. “Mom, can you help me with my homework?” is a rarity now.
They don’t really need you as much anyway, because they can go on the frickin’ computer and figure it all out. Technology seems to have helped them be able to learn everything independently . . . except how to
be
independent people like we had to be. Computers have made it easier for them in one way, but you know what? They have also made it tougher because doing everything online has robbed them of experiences.
It’s why it’s important for parents to say things like “please” and “thank you.” And “may I?” And to talk about what’s in the news and what’s happening in the world. And to travel and spend time out there. Yes—Out There!
It’s why it’s important that kids learn about having friends, so that if they do go to somebody’s house, they know how to speak to the parents. How to interact with actual people.
Maybe even how to tell time when it’s not digital.
Children and parents are not peers. As I mentioned earlier, when I was a kid, we had to call everybody Mr. and Mrs. So-and-so. It’s the acknowledgment of another person and their place in the hierarchy. Southern people do it all the time. Miss So-and-so. And people always enjoy a laugh about it. That’s because it’s one part respectful, one part wink. Mostly, though, it’s respectful.
But, listen up. Your son’s or daughter’s friends . . . those kids are not your equals! Unfortunately, I think a lot of agitation comes because adults don’t know how to get respect.
When a kid comes over and the adult says, “Call me Steve,” you’re setting up a relationship that may or may not work. It’s hard to know. Every relationship is different, and blahdy-blahdy-blah. Got it . . . But. I do think going back to some of the basics might help. Now, do I want to be addressed as Miss Goldberg by folks? No, not everybody. But, see, I have the kind of name that is meant for people to call it, big and small, just what it is. Whoopi. You know?
But your son’s or daughter’s friends, they should call you “Mr.” or “Mrs.” Just out of respect. Don’t assume that you can be, or should be, their best friend.
It’s like they say about music. If you learn the rules, you know when you’re breaking them. And I think you need to start young knowing the rules of how we interact. Then, maybe decide when . . . and when
not
. . . to break them. But you’ve got to have the rules, I think. And kids need to know they mean something. And that comes from the adults.
Remember when most of us were kids? You did not have control over the telephone. So if you were in deep doo-doo, your parents said, “You know what? Your friends cannot call.” And that was that. Remember that? There was no explaining, and adults did not care if you were mad. And you could not talk back because there were Big Repercussions.
One of the other things that people never used to do when I was a kid, was adults never used to talk about other adults in front of kids. Don’t do it! It’s wrong to talk or gossip about an adult in front of a child. Then, next thing you know, it gets around to other kids. With information you may or may not have correct.
It’s like having a kid hear an adult say, about someone, “Well, what’s wrong with her? Why doesn’t she want more kids? Doesn’t she like kids?” Maybe it doesn’t occur to people maybe she can’t afford to have more kids. There could be a million reasons. But why call her out in public? Especially in front of a child!
I’ve found when you’re dealing with little kids, they really do operate mostly based on what they see. They are responsible if you are responsible. They understand things if—
if
—you can keep it child-friendly and short.
Now, I made a mistake in my earlier years thinking that because I was explaining stuff to my daughter that, at seven and eight, she was putting it in her brain computer. Well, that’s all well and good but at seven and eight they don’t really know what your experience at twenty-eight or thirty or forty has been. So just because you tell them something, and they give you the look that says, “Yes, I get it” . . . doesn’t mean that they get it.
When she was young I said to my daughter, “Look, I’m going to go and I’m going to be on Broadway.” And she’s like, “OK.” Then, when I was gone, she’d say, “Where are you? Why aren’t you here?” And I’d say, “I explained it to you.” “OK, you explained it, but it doesn’t mean anything to me. I’m eight years old.” And that was a very clear message to me. I had to admit that I was just trying to do what I wanted and I tried to get her to go along so I could do what I wanted to do and not feel guilty. Really, what I wanted was permission. Now I know you can’t do that.
Most parents, if they say, this is what I’m doing, a kid will say, “OK,” and not really understand what it entails. All the sacrifices that they are going to have to make. Or the demands on your time. It’s important. And parents . . . you’ve got to know that kids are not going to understand what you’re going through. They’re just not. They don’t have your experience. And if they don’t understand what you’re going through, they have no clue as to how it’s going to affect them. So you sort of have to be a little more realistic than I was.
And this was a huge lesson for me. I still had to be the parent. You have to have the relationship that allows you to be the adult. Where you actually have to take responsibility. You know, we can talk about responsibility with kids as much as we want to, but the truth of the matter is you’re the adult. You are responsible. When they’re seven and eight you can’t ask them to be responsible. You can ask them to be responsible for homework. But you can’t ask them to be responsible for how you’re doing. Or how you’re feeling. It just isn’t their responsibility to take care of you. It’s your responsibility to take care of them.
And you have to be measured, I think, in the things that you say to them. Because they don’t need to have all of the information all of the time. They need a lot of the information . . . and often. And there’s a difference. And they are not mini-adults. They’re not little forty-year-olds. They’re seven, eight, and nine. And all those things that you were when you were seven, eight, and nine. That’s what they get to be too.
So by not sharing that global stuff, you let them still be kids.
Now. There are some things, some moments in life, as we discovered on September 11, 2001, where you’ve got to say, “I don’t know.” Because suddenly, everybody was reduced to childhood on September 11. Nobody could understand it. It was foreign to us. And so, you know, if it was foreign to us and you’re in your forties, it’s way foreign to little ones if they’re seven and eight.
If things like that are happening in the world, they don’t need to see it on TV all the time. They don’t need to relive it over and over and over again.
Those towers came down more than once. Hundreds of times, thousands of times, on the television. I just sort of feel like there are some things that you’re going to have to admit that you don’t know how to respond to. And that it’s something you’ll just have to discover together.