I miss the good old days …

No question there’s a lot about the 21st century to be excited about, but there’s a lot I miss about days gone by.

Last Thursday I went to see the Christian Dior exhibit at the Royal Ontario Museum here, in Toronto. Every garment, whether for daytime or evening, was shown with gloves — short, mostly black ones with suits and dresses and white, cream and occasionally black, long, above-the-elbow ones for formal wear.

I remember that from when I was growing up. My mother, Continue reading

The days of eloquence, elegance and civility are now officially over …

A friend sent me a very interesting New York times article (How to Listen to Donald Trump passengers Every Day for Years) on the weekend. It was written by John McWhorter, who is an associate professor of English and comparative literature at Columbia.

He talked about Trump’s “choppy, rambling, self-expression” and went on to explain that it’s Continue reading

This is about manners, not politics …

We’ve been losing our civility for years. Kids, and I mean seven and eight year olds, talk back to their rude behaviourparents. They’re rude to teachers. You don’t hear “please” or “thank you” coming out of anyone’s mouth very often, regardless of age. We’re dismissive of other people and other points of view. We say, and do, mean things.

We shout. Ignore. Sneer. Swear. Jab. Interrupt. Huff off.

We stopped ‘dressing for the occasion’ a long time ago. When I was a child and even in my teens and 20’s no one would ever have thought of going to a concert hall, opera house or even dinner in a ‘nice’ restaurant in Continue reading

Day 227. We’re Oblivious

I went for a pedicure yesterday. A woman walked in, gave her name, and said she had an appointment for a mani/pedi (manicure and pedicure). Her esthetician disdainfulshowed her where to hang up her coat, and asked her to pick her preferred shade of nail polish. Which she did.

She was then shown where to sit. They had a long row of special pedicure chairs along one wall. She refused. Hands on hips, she said she’d booked two appointments, one for a friend; and she wouldn’t start until her friend arrived. The gal who was doing the pedicure very politely explained she had another client coming in, and she wouldn’t have time.

At this point I should tell you the friend was late.

The woman still refused to get started. And to make matters worse she was looking at the poor girl like she was an alien. Or a speck of lint on her skirt. It wasn’t pretty.

To make a long story short this back-and-forth continued for about five more minutes. Eventually the woman

Continue reading