Having good manners is one of those things society never bothers to question, much like the nonsensical lyrics in most rap songs. College, however, is a place where we are supposed to ask that ever-important question ‘why?’ If college is supposed to prepare us for adulthood, why do we have to live in the same room as a stranger our first year of school when we will never do that again? Why are clichés bad when they feel so good? Why have my parents moved to another address without telling me? And why are many aspects of proper social etiquette simply ridiculous?
I am not talking about the essentials like ‘please,’ ‘thank you’ and ‘excuse me.’ The manners I’m concerned with need to be put under the microscope and analyzed by scientists in thermonuclear suits. Why? Because when I say ‘thermonuclear,’ I automatically feel intelligent, and those suits can prevent disease from spreading. Thus there would be no more sneezing, and, as a result, no more saying, ‘God bless you.’ That was a stretch, I know.
An old story says that people began to say ‘God bless you’ because when people sneezed it was as if their soul was trying to escape them. One time I sneezed 30 times in a row and I felt no soul loss. Also, no one has ever told me ‘God bless you’ and then asked, ‘How’s your soul? Your soul doin’ alright? You were sneezing a lot just now, and I was a little concerned about the prospects of your damnation.’
The funny thing with ‘God bless you’ is that everyone says it, even impolite college students. I was taking a test the other day, someone sneezed, and about 10 people chimed in with a ‘God bless you.’ This was a room filled with college kids who, when taking a test, could care less about anyone’s suffering. During a test when someone has an obvious cold and is coughing up a lung, this person will be the center of everyone’s hate. With one sneeze, however, he could be the center of love and affection … by the most powerful entity in the universe? Something does not make sense.
‘God bless you’ if you are going on a long journey. ‘God bless you’ if you are going to get married. Hell, ‘God bless you’ if you are getting your wisdom teeth pulled. But ‘God bless you’ for a simple sniffle? I think not.
Let’s say we leave God out of sneezing and go back to saying ‘Gesundheit’ a fine German word basically wishing someone good health. Also, look at that word. It’s silly, and it sounds like the name a 5-year-old would give to an invisible friend. ‘Watch out! You almost sat on Gesundheit!’
If nobody respects my position on ‘God bless you’ then I thank you for reading, but don’t tell me, ‘You’re welcome.’ ‘You’re welcome’ is another one of these social principles that we never bother to question. It’s a common sense thing: If somebody says, ‘Thank you,’ the person who did the good deed obviously replies with, ‘You’re welcome.’ Welcome to what, exactly? You’re welcome, steal my wife in the future because I did something nice? You’re welcome to come over and play Parcheesi with me? You’re welcome to my house in case you get evicted? Why is the person who clearly did nothing in this whole exchange welcome to something?
The way I see it, if I do something nice for somebody, I should be the one getting welcomed. If I return a cat to its owner, not only should I be thanked, but I should feel welcome to exchange the cat for a more useful animal, like a ferret.
Though it may seem ‘lower class,’ (by lower class I mean the American, not English way), the proper response to ‘thank you’ should clearly be ‘no problem.’ It makes sense. ‘No problem’ obviously states, ‘I appreciate your thanks, and retrieving your cat from the burning building was no problem. From 30 stories below, however, it looked like a ferret.’
These are two simple examples that need to be questioned. But I have more. Why is it considered poor table manners to eat with my elbows on the table? I went to an elementary school ran by nuns, and if we were caught with our elbows on the table during lunch, we had to pick up garbage on our hands and knees as a punishment. I was told by the head nun in charge, Sister Letizia, that proper posture was essential at the table. Proper posture while eating? I have poor posture while standing, let alone eating. Lunch should be a time of relaxation. I should have been able to eat my peanut butter and jelly sandwich while sitting in an E-Z Boy recliner with my elbows firmly placed on armrests. The nuns should have been serving me iced tea.
The societal ‘no elbows on table’ rule made me insane. When I was finally freed from Sister Letitzia’s Nazi regime, I rebelled against those crazy nuns by doing a poor-postured breast stroke on lunch tables around the globe with ELBOWS ON TABLES. ELBOWS ON TABLES! GOD FORBID!
And, God forbid, I think it is preposterous to wash my hands after going to the bathroom. I mean, I hardly ever urinate on my hands, and I think … that I have revealed too much. You are welcome to make fun of me any time you want. Now that makes sense!
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