Recently I was walking my dog down a sidewalk when a 30-ish woman and her two children on bicycles and a dog approached me, taking up most of the sidewalk. My dog and I moved over as far as we could and just as we were about to pass this small group, the woman’s dog got a bit close and made my dog a bit nervous, so I pulled us even more to the side.

Instead of just passing us, or tightening her leash on her own pet, the woman yelled out in a very loud and very unfriendly voice something quite uncalled for and directed at me.

I was a bit stunned—my dog and I did nothing wrong. We had moved over to let this group pass. Why in the world would she make a public scene…and in front of her children?

Of course I had many responses in my head…things I wanted to say very badly after she walked by. But her children were with her, which stopped me.

 Though quite obviously, that did not stop her.

So many times I see what I consider to be an attack of “entitlement” come over people of a particular age group. (Yes, here I am, someone over 50, shaking my wrinkled finger at someone younger while my teeth fall out.)

Not really.

I just don’t understand.

I’ve never felt entitled, or that the world owed me something, or, that anyone around me should just put up with my pets if they’re acting up. Quite the opposite.

 It used to be called courtesy. Civility. A realization that while I may be special to those who love me, and special to the spirit that created me, I’m not “special” in traffic, crowds, long lines, or at the motor vehicle registration office. I’m just another person.

This seems to be a lost idea.

But wait. Didn’t Tom Wolfe call us boomers the “Me Generation” back in the 1970s? Self-centered and spoiled?

Were we? Are we still?

And is rudeness just what it is…a sign of changes in society that has nothing to do with age? Did our grandparents shake their heads and wonder what had become of manners?

DSC02021

It really does feel like things are a bit coarser these days, like taking the soft and forgiving road just isn’t done much. I confess to quick irritation when a driver cuts me off haphazardly or someone jumps in line ahead of me. And I’m sure negative breeds negative. And granted, as boomers and beyond, we didn’t grow up with the need (or just the temptation) to constantly be sticking our noses in electronic devices to see stock prices, weather, and funny texts…we actually interacted with those around us.

So being polite was the smart thing to do. And it’s lot easier than being rude.

In fact, according to Psychology Today, rudeness can wreck your health. Talking down to someone. Ignoring a co-worker. Being impolite. When this happens to us on a regular basis, it can lead to anxiety, depression, weight gain, heart disease, sleep problems, and digestive ailments.

And sometimes the rudeness isn’t so blunt. Like when we interrupt each other constantly. Or never show up for a date or social engagement on time. Can’t put down our cell phone when we’re supposed to be enjoying another person’s company. Laugh off another’s anxiety when he or she is revealing a deep hurt.

Research says when we do that, we’re not seeing the other person as an equal. Or we may in fact be so insecure we don’t know how else to act.

I admit I stay confused about some of this…I’ve been around such cordial strangers and seen such acts of kindness. I’ve traveled to cities where I had been warned everyone would be rude, and they were the kindest people I’ve met. And like all of us, I’ve been ignored, disrespected, and left wondering what is ailing the other person.

dioSo maybe it comes down to realizing we don’t know what’s going on with that person; what hurt lies inside; what bad day have they had; why do they choose that behavior. Maybe we will be the only nice person they meet today (this of course assumes we are nice!). Maybe for now, let just have to let them be who they are.

And challenge ourselves to be what we can—the best version of our own self.

 “I always prefer to believe the best of everybody, it saves so much trouble.”

     Rudyard Kipling