Etta Kett ;-)

Over my 20 years of living far removed from our native Northeast, we've learned that, though Emily Post is deemed to reign supreme in matters of taste and decorum, she's seldom obeyed in this little corner of the Sandhills. Come to think of it, I'm not sure many folks in these parts even know who she is, much less care what she'd advise people to do in matters of social graces. "Who's Grace and what social disease has she got?" is the most likely response from far, FAR too many of the folks I associate with on a daily basis.

A childhood friend from our hometown made a similar observation on a recent visit, and the topic of conversation meandered to the evident differences in Yankee and Dixie breeding as exemplified by so very many of the people we three have met down here. No, I do NOT wish to generalize, for I know there ARE still people on BOTH sides of the Mason-Dixon line who are gracious, charming, and imbued with every social grace Miss Post would find amenable; we know and love many of them! Having thus clarified, I refer to the general populace; everyday people whose children happen to attend school with or participate in the same extracurricular activities (e.g. sports teams, Scout troops) as our children.

For example: I knew literally hundreds of people up north who honored and obeyed the directive of the infamous four letters on any invitation: RSVP (we're not just talking about wedding invitations here!). The letters are a French abbreviation for “repondez, s’il vous plait,” literally, “respond, please!” Up north, I'd generally get calls from people indicating whether or not they'd attend a given event, barring weather-related issues that prevented their participation at the last moment (as with one party I hosted during college at my home the night of a worse-than-originally-forecast snow squall).

Having noted this, I must also note that the overwhelming majority of my negative experiences with this issue have been for CHILDREN'S BIRTHDAY PARTIES. What sort of message does it send to your kids if you can't even be bothered to tell your friends the child will or won't attend a cake & ice cream gathering?

Our most recent experience of this was at the end of the school term, when our child was one of some 25-30 invited to a CLASS party, a Saturday afternoon barbecue at a local park, hosted by the parents of one schoolmate of our youngest child. Like anyone in this situation, they were stymied as to how many they should prepare for, having invited EVERY CHILD in the girls’ class but gotten only FOUR firm responses (three affirmatives!) by the day of the party. Unlike us, they are local natives, which negated my long-held private theory that such invites extended by me were ignored because I’m a DAMN YANKEE! In an odd way, it reinforced my faith in humanity—the decent, etiquette-abiding portion of it. (Since living in the south, hubby has also heard the excuse, “We don’t go to church with them,” as if this somehow exempts the invitee from being Christian enough to make a phone call and say whether or not their child will participate?!)

The other thing we all observed was the tendency of some Southerners (again, not generalizing, but this is a rather dominant experience) to be MORE guarded and private than the average apartment dwelling New Yorker (and we--including myself; I was one as a young child & my maternal grandparents were all of my first 22 years--are legendary for not letting “just anyone” get near us, emotionally or otherwise!). As gracious and polite as these individuals will present while you’re before them (e.g. “Yes, ma’am,” “No, sir,” “I’d love to do so-and-so with y’all!”), the instant your back is turned, these rather catty individuals will gossip about every little thing about you from your “fur’n” accent to your weight to whether you’re wearing the proper attire for the season (e.g. “How DARE he wear a seersucker suit this late in September?” without regard for the 85+ degree temperature or the 95%+ humidity lingering well past Labor Day).

All this phony baloney "etiquette" is sufficient to send THIS native New Yorker--who also LOVES Gone With the Wind, by the way-- running for the smelling salts like Aunt Pittypat Hamilton! :P