Our Own Ultimate

As I was skimming around Amy Vanderbilt's Guide to Gracious Living today, I was struck by her decision to devote an entire section to "familiar words and phrases from other languages." It caught me off guard, because although the title of her (in my opinion fabulous) book lends itself to be a guide to everyday living, I wasn't sure how having a base knowledge in other languages (especially Latin, which we all know is a dead language) is something anyone (let alone a 50's housewife) would utilize every day. Or even once a week, for that matter.

But even as I type this, I'm having an ah-ha! moment, because therein lies the appeal of the 50's housewife, right? For lore tells us of a woman rich in grace and beauty, who keeps a spotless house, has 2.5 children with impeccable manners, a husband who adores her, and he with never a wrinkle to be found on his clothing, in addition to her being cultured. She may not use Latin or French every day, or even on most days...but the one day she needs to partake in the witty repartee of her husband's business associates and their spouses, she can do so with ease. Now that is something to aspire to.

The kind of society we should seek is that which stimulates us to express ourselves verbally, that spurs our intellectual processes, that makes us want to achieve our own ultimate (p. 467).

Our own ULTIMATE! What a fantastic concept. To just be the best we can be, stealing the Army's once famous motto. When I get tired and just down and out about my lack of 50's housewife skills, I can remember the goal is truly - to achieve my own ultimate. Even if I completely fall short of perfect (which, let's be honest - not even June or Margaret can call themselves that), I will still be a blessing to my family by striving for my personal best. And, as a writer and lover of literature, it brings me great pleasure to share some of Amy's list of familiar words and phrases from the language that's dead to the world, but not to us housewives...Latin!

ex cathedra - usually used in connection with a pronouncement from the Pope. Literally, "from his chair" or "officially."

ex libris - (among) the books (of), a bookplate with the owner's name, coat of arms, etc., to be pasted on the inside cover of a book

habeas corpus - a writ or order permitting a prisoner to be produced at a stated time to determine the court's right to detain him. This is a phrase beloved by crime reporters and mystery writers.

You see? Before today, I thought habeas corpus was just a line from Legally Blonde. We're learning so much already, aren't we?!

ipso facto - by the act itself

mare nostrum - our sea. A phrase used politically by the Italians to indicate the Mediterranean. And a phrase particularly liked by editorial writers.

A word of caution here, fellow housewives, if I may. I'm guessing it wouldn't go over well in the world for Americans to start referring to the Atlantic or the Pacific as mare nostrum. Just a thought!

multum in parvo - much in little

And that's where we'll end the language lesson for today. I hope you were all taking notes, housewives. The lesson within the lesson that Amy should wish to impart is that the learned housewife is the happiest housewife. Until next time, Valete! And if you don't know what that means, I'm afraid you'll have to look it up to get the joke!

It's BadMINTON!

I've blogged quite a bit about the work involved in keeping a June-like life, but have yet to spend much time on leisure activities of the 1950's. While watching yet another episode of Father Knows Best, my interest was piqued when the episode centered around whether or not Jim was too old to play badminton. Eventually, he and Margaret skip off (in a very youthful fashion, I might add) to play badminton with another couple for the evening.

I guess it's not much different than couples playing tennis together today, but it was just funny to me because I haven't played badminton since tenth grade gym class. And also...I thought it was "badmitten"...like fingerless gloves. Seriously, I figured out I was wrong for the first time today when I tried to type "badmitten" into Google search and all the results came up for "badminton." I guess they're wrong when they say computers will never be as smart as humans.

Anyway, badminton to me, seems just a little "cuter" version of tennis. Obviously, there are the logistical differences of a shuttlecock being used instead of a ball, and the court being a bit different, but it seems similar enough. I, not being particularly adept at tennis, am actually very interested in trying out badminton (for the second time ever) sometime soon.

Before I get ahead of myself, I think it's best to consult the expert on all things, Amy Vanderbilt on the topic at hand.

A sociologist or psychiatrist could glean considerable information about any [badminton] player's personality defects by watching his behavior on the court. In this game, the man stands revealed, even in a game of mixed doubles. He has plenty of room in which to throw a tantrum or his racket, lots of space to yell and hurl taunts at his opponent, many opportunities to cheat when there is no referee and his word as a sportsman and gentleman decides whether the shuttlecock is in or out (p. 163).

Now that gives us lots to look forward to, doesn't it? It sounds very similar to what I imagine will be my son and his peers interacting in about another year or so. Nevertheless, Margaret Anderson did look so snappy in her cute little badminton outfit - maybe I'll still give it a go!

The Lost Art of Asking

There are many things about the 1950's that I love, as you may have gathered from my previous posts. Although I haven't attained "June status" yet as a housewife, I am doing my best every day, researching and putting to use what I have learned as best I possibly can...while living in 2011. The more I learn about the fabulous 50's, the more I love about them. Sure, things weren't perfect then, and I don't expect they will ever be this side of heaven, but it seems that there was a greater sense of propriety and a shared societal understanding of what is and what is not appropriate behavior back then.

So I guess that's why I am more than just a little bit baffled that roughly 60 years later, some things have gone completely out the window.

For example, this past weekend I was fortunate enough to be able to take a "girls weekend" away to visit my best friend in Wilmington, North Carolina. We had a ball - went to the beach every day, out for nice meals, antiquing, and had plenty of great conversations. Saturday night after dinner, she wanted to take me to a rooftop bar where she and her friends often like to go. The place was great - it had a beautiful view of the city, it wasn't too crowded, and the dj was playing music I actually like. My best friend and a couple of other girls she knows were just doing our thing, having fun on the dance floor when out of nowhere my friend looks at me like a deer in headlights because she sees what's coming and I clearly don't. Some random dude has come up behind me and tries to start dancing with me (or some version of that) without even a) asking me or b) facing me.

I whip around just as this bonehead's arm is about to secure itself around my waist and promptly say: "Hi, although I really appreciate you taking the time to ask me if I want to dance, I'm hanging out with my friends. And by the way, I'm married." To which my friend added, "AND she has a baby!!" HA. That ought to do it! And with that, the rejected gentleman (and that's using the term loosely, believe me) disappeared into the crowd.

Just as we were getting back to getting our groove on, three more guys came over to us and said: "We just saw you tell those other guys you didn't want to dance with them, but..." And in my head I'm like "But what? You think you're different or special or better looking than they were?" I politely (as possible) pointed to the single ladies and went to the bar to get a drink. Momentarily, I was left to my own thoughts waiting for the bartender's attention and I couldn't help but wonder...how did we get here?!

According to Amy Vanderbilt, in the 50's, there were dance cards - not only did gentlemen ask the ladies if they would care for a dance, they basically scheduled the dances in advance! Oh, how sweet those days must have been! In the 50's (or at least at card-dance), no female was essentially danced upon unwillingly by a man with absolutely zero manners. And if a woman was asked for a dance by a man she didn't care to dance with, she had a choice in the matter - she had the option of politely refusing his polite request.

No lady need dance with anyone if for some reason she doesn't care to. But she must always be polite in her refusal (p. 218, Guide to Gracious Living).

You see the distinction? What Ms. Vanderbilt is suggesting is that there is never a place for rude behavior or speech. A woman is not a senseless object to be used however a man sees fit - most of all when the man doesn't even know the woman, or care to know her, as can only be assumed by the essential "hostage taking" that happens on dance floors in clubs today. I realize I may be coming across as prude, but I don't think women have to share my love of the 50's to share the opinion that men's dance club behavior has become an absolute abhorrence.

There were, of course, dames of the 50's who had to avoid their own awkward dance floor moments:

Girls, of course, get stuck too during interminable dances when no one asks to cut in. When no relief seems in sight either partner can suggest leaving the floor, usually under the pretext that there are too many couples dancing, that a drink, or a talk, or a walk in the air might be more fun (p. 218).

Ah, if only it were that simple again! To have the worst problem a girl could face on the dance floor be "getting stuck in an interminable dance." I do wonder how shocked women who had full dance cards in the 50's would be to see the hideous mess that has become of dancing in our society today. Because let's be honest...seeing a woman literally man-handled is shocking no matter what generation you grew up in. At least, it should be. Women nowadays put up with too much and ask for too little in return, if you ask me. I hope my son will grow up to be a gentleman and if I ever have a daughter...well, she's not leaving the house until she's 40!!!

Clergymen...Now and Then

We've already discussed one topic of considerable discomfort this week: politics. Today I say one good controversial topic deserves another. Having done very minimal research on the topic, I'd like to discuss how religion has changed from the 50's until now. Just kidding...we'd be here all YEAR.

I would, however like to address the change in how a church congregation might have esteemed their priest or pastor in the 50's versus how people might do so today. Obviously, there can be no generalizations - every congregation is different, today, as well as in the 50's. However, because this is meant to be a short musing on the topic, generalizations will have to here suffice. My apologies in advance if anyone is somehow offended by my "trying as hard as humanly possible not to be offensive" blog post.

I think there are probaby two major differences in a clergyman's relationship to his congregation back in the 50's vs. today. And I use "his" knowing full well there are many women pastors out there. However, all the churches I have attended have been pastored by men, so forgive me for being a bit sexist...again with the generalizations, I know!

The first difference was that the clergyman was a bit of a town celebrity back in the 1950's. It was definitely noteworthy if you saw the priest while out doing errands or out for dinner at night. He had this allure of speaking in front hundreds of people on Sundays, this authority figure to be listened to very carefully. Today, he's just another guy in the supermarket. And with all the churches in a given town, he might just as soon go unnoticed all together on any given day. Well, any day but Sunday, that is.

On the way out of church, a mother may shake the priest's hand and say "Good morning, Father." And he might smile and say a cheerful good morning in return. The mother secretly envied the person in front of them to whom he responded "Oh, good morning Martha. And how's little Davy this morning?" Because he obviously knew these people. Well, at least he knew their names. In a large congregation, this would be something only a small percentage could hope for. Because although he was an authority figure in the church and possibly the community at large, he was still only human...and that's a lot of names to remember!

The 1950's priest or pastor also had an air of mystery about him. Not many in the congregation knew how he spent his days or interacted with him socially. But many families wanted to. Again, it was the celebrity-ish appeal. And the allure of being on friendly terms with a pseudo-celebrity. I'm noticing that a lot of people cared a great deal about "keeping up with the Joneses" and keeping up appearances in general in the 1950's. This is not to say that people who hung out with their pastors always had ulterior motives, but come on, admit it...people would have probably been impressed when you casually mentioned at tea the next day that you had the pastor and his wife over for dinner last night. Because they, like everyone else, want to know about him. What's he like? What's she like? Was he normal?

As a teacher's wife I compare it to a student seeing their teacher outside of the school they go to. Especially out in a social situation like having dinner with friends or taking the little one out for a walk in town - the kids often do a double-take, like "what are you doing here?" Because, as we all know, teachers, pastors, and family doctors typically stay 24/7 in their schools, churches, and offices, respectively.

And so the idea of becoming friends with a priest or pastor served two puproses: one - friendship. Two - social status.

The second major difference between the 1950's clergyman and one now is that today, on the whole, they seem a little friendlier, a little more down to earth, and that they don't want to remain under the facade that they are anything other than just a normal human being. Who just happens to know a lot about the Bible. For example, the pastor at our church uses himself as an example of what not to do almost weekly - he's humanizing himself! Which, believe me, is a lot easier to listen to and relate to than someone telling me how much better than me they are or how much "work" I have to do in order to get closer to God. Frankly, that's just not how God operates. And I like a pastor who acknowledges that!

Well anyway, thanks for enduring my "controversial" topics this week. I'm certain the next post will be business as usual. To close, I'll leave you with a bit of education from Amy Vanderbilt. When addressing a priest in writing it's:

Reverend Father or Dear Father Cullen

And wouldn't you know, it's the same darn thing if you're addressing him in person. Thanks for keeping it simple, Amy.

Until next time, God bless!!

It's About to Get Political

As my little boy just celebrated his first birthday, I have found myself thinking a lot about the world he will grow up in. We got through the first year unscathed, and I look forward to all the great times ahead of us. However, I have also found myself worrying at times for the things we may have to survive. I was a freshman in college when the September 11th attacks happened and I remember like it was yesterday how it shook me to the core. Everyone related it to what Pearl Harbor must have been like for our grandparents...a day that will live in infamy.

Thinking about our nation's politics and all the craziness a two-party system invites, I truly feel for the President and all the difficult decisions that have faced him so far as well as those that will face him in the future. Let me also be quick to say this has nothing to do with political party or even the President himself. I felt the same way about George W. Bush when he was in office. It just can't be an easy job, there's no doubt about it.

As I ponder these things, and pray for the best possible world for my son, I think it would be interesting to compare the man who was president for most of the 1950's, Dwight D. Eisenhower with our current president, Barack Obama. What similarities do these men share? What are/were the main difficulties of their presidencies? Is there really more to fear now than ever before? Or are we still dealing with the same issues of the 1950's, just in slightly different packaging? Hang with me...it's about to get political.

According to www.whitehouse.gov, Dwight D. Eisenhower, the 34th President of the United States "worked incessantly during his two terms to ease the tensions of the Cold War."

Ten presidencies later, Barack Obama is trying to fight The War on Terror and ease tensions in the Middle East.

Dwight D. Eisenhower, or "Ike" as he was referred to, enjoyed a "sweeping victory" to the presidency, as did Barack Obama. It seems like both these men campaigned around the idea of hope, which the nation so desperately needed at the time of their respective elections.

Ike and Barack both had to deal with budget issues (apparently we couldn't get our spending under control in the 50's either!) - and President Obama's are far from over. Somehow he needs to find a way to get the two parties to work together and really make the decisions that are best for the American people. And that is not a task I envy in the least!

"As desegregation of schools began, [Eisenhower] sent troops into Little Rock, Arkansas, to assure compliance with the orders of a Federal court; he also ordered the complete desegregation of the Armed Forces. 'There must be no second class citizens in this country,' he wrote." (www.whitehouse.gov). Decades later, our country has elected the first African American president. We still have a long way to go, but there is a part of me that is hopeful that we could one day live in a country where there truly aren't any people thought of as second class citizens - I'm guessing no one would have believed back in Ike's day that there ever would be an African American president!

As I read through the struggles each of these presidents has had to face, I realize that there is no way to shelter my son completely from the evils of this world. I also realize that the evils of this world haven't gotten any bigger since Eisenhower's day, though they certainly remain. Beacause of this, I believe that all presidents deserve respect as the elected leader of our nation. I don't have to agree with everything they do or say, but I will try not to be disrespectful of our country's president, no matter who they are. They have the least desirable job I can think of and everyone in the world watching them while they do it!

Amy Vanderbilt states in her Guide to Gracious Living that if you are ever in a situation in which you are addressing the president in writing, you do it this way:

"My dear Mr. President".

And you sign the letter:

"Very respectfully," (p. 437). Coincidence? I think not.

My Dear Mr. Chief Justice

Today I learned that the Chief Justice of the United States is John G. Roberts, Junior. It's probably sad that I had no idea of this fact prior to sitting down to write this post. Also, I really don't know much about the office of Chief Justice in general. And I'm guessing I'm not the only American who could be found lacking in this area.

How does this relate to the 1950's you ask? I was perusing Amy Vanderbilt's Guide to Gracious Living and noticed a huge portion of the book dedicated to the proper etiquette for addressing all sorts of people socially, in government, in the community, and even royalty! In this day and age of email, Twitter, and Iphones, it seems totally crazy that there was once a time (only about 50 years ago!) that people primarily communicated by letter. Obviously, there were telephones also, however, even casual invitations to small social gatherings were communicated by written invitation, so I imagine communication with the higher ups in government were as well.

Which begs the question, is the art of letter writing dead? It makes me wonder. I love to write, but I honestly can't remember the last time I sat down and wrote an actual letter. I'm not including thank you cards or birthday cards here. I'm talking about a "hey, how are you? how are things? things here are great, the family is well, next month we're going to the Catskills" LETTER.

And honestly, who doesn't love getting a letter? I remember when I was a senior in high school and my boyfriend (now my husband) lived 4 hours away at college. We wrote each other letters at least once a month, even though we also talked on the phone multiple times a week. It was so thrilling to go to the mailbox and get a letter from my man. I still have all the letters and cards he ever sent me in a big envelope. What can I say, I'm a hopeless romantic. But even as a kid at camp or a freshman in college myself, letters from my parents were always so wonderful to receive. Getting a letter from someone just really shows you they care. Sure, a text or a Facebook post could get the "I'm thinking of you" message across, but a letter takes it to the next level.

I think I'll start writing more letters to people. It will be interesting to see the response I get - I think it could make some people feel awkward because we are so drifting away from anything truly personal in our society. People expect a call every so often or an email update here and there, but a heartfelt letter out of left field really has the potential to bowl someone over. I love it.

Fortunately for Mr. John G. Roberts, Junior, I won't be writing him a letter any time soon. Frankly, I just wouldn't know what to say. I'm sure he's doing a great job, and from what I gather, he's in there for life, so the way I see it, it won't make much difference what I say to him one way or the other. In case any of you are better patriots than I, I will include Ms. Vanderbilt's excerpt on how to address the Chief Justice of the United States:

Letter opening: Sir (business) My dear Mr. Chief Justice (social)
Closing: Very Truly Yours (business) Sincerely Yours (social)
Speaking to: Mr. Chief Justice
Introducing or Referring to: The Chief Justice

Pretty straightforward. And now, in case we should ever meet, the Chief Justice and I, I will be well prepared. For now, I'm off to go ponder who I'll write to first. Until next time, I remain, Very Truly Yours.

WWJD

I'm not sure when things changed, but as far as I can tell, people used to dress a lot more thoughtfully than they do now. It seems like these days people are far more concerned with comfort than style - hello, girdles! - than they were in the 50's. Don't get me wrong, I love to be comfortable as much as the next girl, and I'd be lying if I said there weren't some days when I don modified pajamas from morning until evening because, let's face it, I often end up with upchucked Gerber as an accessory. One of the things that fascinates me most about 50's housewives is that they always seemed to be able to get things done while looking fab. I mean, let's be real - these women dusted in pearls!

From what I gather, it's not just women who were to be meticulous in their clothing and appearance. Amy Vanderbilt has plenty to say about menswear and what was appropriate or not for a man to wear to the office. Her advice to men everywhere? Be prepared.

It is safer to be dressed for any business occasion that might occur than to go to the office in clothes that might be out of place if an important client should turn up or a vital meeting be called. The beloved rainy-day suit looks shabby when the sun comes out at noon, the old tweed jacket throws a man off stride if he's suddenly precipitated into a group of men wearing directors' jackets...(p. 141).

I love how she describes this dressing up in terms of being safe. I don't think many men today (or women, for that matter) would consider their choice of wardrobe based on a very important event that might take place that day. Back then, a jacket and tie was standard attire for a working man. Obviously, there are certain professions today in which men still dress up (some even wear suits every day), but I think we are trending toward comfort and less emphasis is placed on the way we present ourselves to others.

Right out of college, I was taught that when going to a job interview, a person should wear a suit and dress not for the position they are interviewing for, but for the boss' position. But then the first day on the job, they come in dressed "business casual" (define it how you wish), and look nothing like the polished person they interviewed. I confess I have done this very thing, and it's only now that it amuses me. What I mean to say is it seems like our society is heading towards doing just the bare minimum when it comes to making appearances (and they are not, as they say, everything), rather than making an assertive statement with our clothing and appearance day in and day out. I know I probably walk and carry myself differently when I'm wearing a suit or a cocktail dress than I do when I'm bumming around in pajamas. I imagine I'm not the only one.

There's nothing worse than walking into a place where you think the dress code is _______ (insert how you are currently dressed here) and finding out it is really _______ (insert 6 times nicer than you are dressed here). My sister recently regaled me with a horrific story (well, she was horrified) of attending a cocktail party hosted by new friends one evening. She walked in the door, cute as can be in a long sweater, jeans, and fun boots. Only when she walked in the door, there was not a pair of jeans to be seen. Everywhere she looked, there were ladies in cocktail dresses, men in suits - people were dressed to the nines. She told me the story the next day in church and said, in a mortified whisper, "Cathleen, I showed up in jeggings!"

While I'm quite sure my sister was still the belle of the ball, I think most of us can relate to the feeling of..."Uh-oh... I wish someone had told me this was a fancy party," or even, "How did I miss the memo?" And I think Amy's point is just that. You won't miss the memo if are always dressed up. I don't think this means prancing around the house in heels (at least, I haven't read that chapter yet!), but I do think it means dressing up a bit more than we're used to and taking a bit more pride in the way we present ourselves to the world. For me, it will mean thinking: "What am I going to wear?," then choosing an outfit and asking: "WWJD?" What would June do?

Grammy's Coming to Town!

Since my husband's parents are on their way to visit us this weekend, I thought it appropriate to study etiquette with in-laws. I have heard countless horror stories from my married friends about meddling mother-in-laws and worse...just plain mean ones. Part of me can't imagine that otherwise normal women become heinous witches once the bride and groom say "I do," so maybe it's also that the wives become a bit more sensitive. I get the whole dynamic of a son leaving his mom's home and starting a new one with his wife (who, in my husband's case is less of a cook and housekeeper than his mother) - and I guess it is difficult for some women to be ok with that.

I, however, have been fortunate to marry into a family that is loving, kind, and even reads my blog! They have accepted me with open arms, faults and all, and I can honestly say I feel like one of the family. Having been so lucky, I find it interesting that sometimes when I start a story with, "My husband's parents are coming to visit," friends will smile sympathetically, as if to say "you'll get through it." Then I rush to say "No, no, I'm very close with my in-laws actually." It's almost as if it's ingrained in our culture to be dramatic about this relationship, particularly with reference to mother-in-laws. I guess father-in-laws are just dudes who don't make much of a fuss about such things.

Amy Vanderbilt has this to say on growing up, moving out, and the formation of a new family:

When we marry, we literally must "forsake all others" and consider the marriage bond the paramount one. The whole process of growing up is that of growing away from one's parents in the physical sense, and to a great degree in the emotional one, too (p. 497).

I guess this makes sense. I remember how exciting it was to think about living with my husband and having a place of our own. For me, it couldn't happen soon enough. We dated for 5 years and had an 8 month engagement - and at the end I just couldn't wait to wake up every morning next to the man I love and my best friend in the world. I never stopped to think about what anyone else might be thinking or feeling about it. Least of all, our mothers.

I remember coming back from our honeymoon, expecting everything to be roses, and my mom told me my sister cried her eyes out the day after I got married. Not because she wasn't happy for me, but because she had a great sense of loss, that things would be different now - and certain things would never be the same. Never again would we live in the same house together. Looking back, I realize that's kind of a big deal. And I imagine if that's the way my sister felt, perhaps my mom and mother-in-law had a bit of that sentiment, too.

Where in-laws are to be considered, especially a mother-in-law who finds it difficult to relinquish hold on her child, the very first steps in the relationship are most important. A young son-in-law, for example, should not be made to feel like a culprit because he can't call this relatively strange and sometimes seemingly hostile older woman "mother."

I'm trying not to read too much into this, but perhaps Amy's husband had issue with the elder Mrs. Vanderbilt? I can honestly say my husband has a great relationship with my family. Also, there was never any question of what we would call each other's parents. When we were teenagers dating, it was "Mr. and Mrs." I think shortly before we were engaged it switched to calling them by their first names. And I love what Amy has to say about that:

Both she and her son-in-law might be more comfortable with the modern "Mrs. Brown" or just "Jane" as if she were a contemporary. Then when the children begin to arrive, a pet name usually solves everything, and "Mrs. Brown" or "Jane" becomes comfortable old "Nanny" or "Granny" or any other variation of a child's loving title for his grandmother to everyone in the household. And somehow with little hands in hers she feels less shut out, more needed in the new living arrangement, and she usually is" (p. 497).

I won't have the chance to ask our "Grammy" whether or not this is true until she arrives tomorrow, but I have a hunch Amy is once again correct. Grammy becomes almost giddy upon seeing her baby grandson, and when she holds him, it appears as though they're in their own little world, happy as clams. And for that matter, I'm fairly certain tension or drama simply cannot exist in a room where that baby boy is smiling.

See you tomorrow, Sherry! Safe travels!