Fast Food

Here is a true thing: Better to go hungry than get behind a minivan in line at the drive thru at McDonald's.

I wasn't even in any particular hurry but as I listened to the mother - manicured, bejeweled and clearly out of her element - giving rattled and impatient instructions to the speaker, I felt myself aging. When she was through, she insisted that it all be read back to her, listening intently and making detailed corrections to each item. Minutes ticked by and the line behind me grew steadily. Hey, lady! a course voice shouted from a pickup truck, Lady, it's fast food - while I''m still young, how about it? She gave him a glare, he reciprocated with a gesture, several horns honked though in support of which side I couldn't be sure, and I decided screw this, Wendy's is just down the road and they have onion rings.

Profanity , my daddy often said, is the last refuge of a limited mind. He lived during a time when manners were important - books were written about them and classes were offered to teach courtesy and grace. Please and thank you were part of everyday conversation, not afterthoughts, you didn't cut in, you didn't argue in public, you didn't bring your cleavage to work and on a city bus or subway, a gentlemen routinely gave up his seat to a lady. You didn't park in handicapped spaces to save a dozen steps across the parking lot. A female never, ever smoked on the street and if you accidentally elbowed a stranger on a crowded sidewalk, you apologized. Even imitation cowboys removed their knock off Stetsons indoors. It was a civilized time, superficial perhaps, but civilized. When, I wonder, did manners and consideration of others get left by the side of the road, replaced by me first?

We are diminished by our rudeness and profanity only encourages mental and linguistic laziness. Agility of speech requires imagination, a lively and curious mind, and practice. Popular curse words are so common that they have lost any impact or element of surprise. We are mindlessly atrophying in our own gray and muted dullness, falling back on universal gestures to convey our meaning, tossing out insults like grain to chickens. With all the complexities and richness of our language, we would rather say, He don't talk much than He is blessed with an economy of speech.

Meanwhile minivan mothers will continue to glare and rednecks in pickup trucks will continue to shout insults. It's a fast food world and we're all stuck in the drive thru line.