A Sinking Ship

Simon and Garfunkel once sang, “I am a rock/ I am an island.” But they were speaking figuratively, not literally. It seems, however, that we have adopted this mentality in its purest form.

This self-important, self-perpetuating idealism is evident in all places, in all facets of our daily lives. Take the morning commute, for example. How many times have you, bleary-eyed and coffee-deficient, been cut off on the freeway by someone who didn’t use a blinker (probably because driving and talking on the cell phone are not conducive to flipping the turn signal lever)? When you honk your horn, does that person acknowledge that they’ve committed a freeway faux paux? Or do they look at you as though you’re the one who’s done something wrong? Of course you were wrong. Because what you have to do could not possibly be as important as what that person has to do. Right?

It happens in grocery stores too. There was once a time when general civilities were exchanged between the shopper and the cashier (How is the weather? Have you been busy here today? I’m just ready to get home.). Now, however, we can’t be bothered to put down our cell phones to converse. When the cashier asks if we want paper or plastic, we just wave frantically and hope she or he recognizes our intended meaning. To the question, “Debit or credit?” we respond with an enthusiastic nod. There is no effective communication taking place, and by the time we leave, we have no clue whether our paper towels were, in fact, on sale, and we have successfully managed to leave an already under-appreciated cashier feeling a bit more slighted than she or he was when first we approached the conveyor belt.

But nowhere is this lack of manners and common courtesy more evident than in the shopping malls, which are really nothing more nowadays than glorified daycare centers for adolescents. The only personal space that matters belongs to them, and as far as they are concerned you are hogging it up. But they are not the only ones. Never was there a more obvious place to manifest one’s own self-importance. We bump into each other without saying “excuse me.” We violate each other’s personal space, and we mentally chastise everyone else for being in our way. We don’t say please anymore because, the way we see it, we are only obtaining that which is rightfully ours. We don’t say thank you because whatever we are receiving (whether good or service) it was someone else’s job to provide for us.

Have we all but forgotten that manners are a necessary part of communication and community? That in order to get respect we must first give it? When we cease to provide each other with small common courtesies we only foster a sense of division, a sense of self-preservation exclusive of all reliance on other people. Most of us cannot afford a liability like this. We have, whether or not we realize it, a great need for other people, for interaction, communication, and motivation. And when we disconnect ourselves, when we start to separate ourselves based on some arbitrary sense of self-importance, we cease to be a rock or an island. We have become our own sinking ship.

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