"Be Nice"
"It's nice to be nice"
Part One
“Be nice”. We all grew up hearing those words from our Moms, Dads and
Grandparents. I remember when I was in the first grade and my mother,
in response to something I said, or did, scolded, “Be nice!”
“Why?” I asked.
And her answer (or non-answer) was “Well, because…it’s nice to be nice.”
I love and respect words, but ‘Nice’ is such an insipid word, like
watery soup, (yuk) or weak coffee.
But I do try to be nice; most recently at a concert at the Long Beach
Library. When I go to one of their programs I’ve learned to choose a seat
after many are already seated, so I could find one that has a clear view of
the stage…meaning of course not behind a big man.
My method usually works for me but that day just as the concert
was about to begin a woman came over to me and asked if I would
mind moving over one seat so she and her mother could sit together.
I said “OK” and learned only one minute into the show that my new seat
didn’t work too well for me. I couldn’t see the vocalist because a huge
platinum blond head (covering a small gray head?) blocked my view. I
had to twist my shoulder for that hour and as a result for the next few days I
had a crick in my neck. So I decided, no more ‘Mr. Nice Guy’.
Fast forward 3 weeks. Another great program at the library. As usual I
waited to choose a seat, found one with a clear view of the stage and
settled myself in anticipation. The lights went out and barely a minute
later it happened again, a young couple came up the aisle, the man
walked into my row and whispered to me. “ Ma’am, would you mind
moving up a seat so my friend and I could sit together?”
I was prepared, “ Sorry, no,” I shook my head, " no…I can’t…sorry”.
“Okay” he said. Crossing in front of me he took the seat to my right while
his friend…girlfriend? took the seat to my left.
The concert consisted of music from the Broadway musicals going back
decades...such as 'Bali Hai’ from South Pacific, and 'Shall We
Dance' from The King and I. Then, as a duet of 'If I Loved You' was
performed I felt movement from the seat on my right as the fellow
leaned forward across my air space to look at his girlfriend and she at
my left leaned forward across my air space to look at him.
Oh no, is this their song? It wasn't, it was followed by more love songs,
and more glances at each other across my line of vision.
I’ll kill myself, I thought, squirming uncomfortably in my seat, I am not
enjoying this concert at all! And then from the corner of my eye I could see
him mouthing some words to her. That’s it!!
I turned to Lover Boy, “Let’s switch seats” I said.
“No, no” he leaned back in his seat, “we’re fine, really.”
If you’re ‘fine’ I wanted to say, then cut it out, it's sweet how you look
longingly at each other, but you’re invading my space, (as the young ones call
it). The concert will be over soon and then you can look, touch, get a room,
whatever, but not yet. I’m here!
I was glad when it was all over. But I was in a dilemma, which was
preferable, being ’nice’ but not seeing the stage well and getting a sore
neck or what happened today when I wasn’t ’nice’ but had a good view of
the stage? The answer was…neither one!
I do my best thinking while I’m driving. On my way home I wasn’t feeling
so good about the afternoon; the words that my mother said to me all those
years ago still rang in my head…‘It’s nice to be nice’. Sure, I like to as well
as anyone. And I love the idea of young love or old love for that matter.
While I waited for the red light to turn to green arrow it hit me, it was so
simple a child or a senior like myself, can see it; Rearrange my schedule, do
my errands after the concert so I can get to the Library earlier, much, much
earlier and get myself into an aisle seat. PROBLEM SOLVED!
THE END
BE NICE
(but not too nice)
Part 2
“Be nice” had a new twistd that happened the very next day at my
neighborhood Walgreens.
My mother is 98 years old and doing great. But she can no longer shop for
herself so I get her the things she needs. This time she needed some personal
items, and I did too. I got to the store early in the afternoon because I had
to pick up my 9 year old granddaughter from school, as I did every Monday.
My neighbor’s son Matt, (40ish) works at Walgreens and is …yes, I’ll say it, a
very nice guy. He gave me a friendly greeting when he saw me and asked
if I, (his senior citizen neighbor) needed his help. I didn’t, I knew the
store very well, having spent untold hours in it Also I didn’t feel that I
wanted to share mine and my mother’s personal business with him...
and then what?...explain which items were not for me but for my mother,
(at least not yet., but will someday if I am lucky!)
So with my... oh so nice and helpful neighbor accompanying me as we chatted
about our New York weather I passed by Aisle 7 where the pantiliners were.
We discussed the new boardwalk as I passed by Aisle 12 that held the denture
cream, passed the 'digestive aids' in Aisle 3, and the hearing aid batteries in Aisle 6
as we speculated about the new neighbor on the block.
I couldn't shake him! On impulse I, (and he) went into the Housewares aisle,
I dropped a bottle of dish detergent into my cart, not happy because I
didn't need it and it wasn’t on sale yet. In the grocery aisle, I took a box of
Cheerios dropped it into my cart, again, not happy, not on sale. And then in
a flash of inspiration, I, (we) turned into the greeting card aisle and I, (we)
stopped in front of the Get Well cards. Thankfully, I didn’t need one at this
time but I had to get rid of him and the old saying came to mind; 'Don't ask
how someone is feeling unless you really want to know and have the time to
hear it'. It worked, a minute later he was gone, back to his work and I could
get what I went in there for!
THE END
"Be Nice"
("er good)
Part 3
I got to Emily’s school a few minutes too late to get my usual parking spot right
in front; I parked on the corner... but she wouldn’t see my car when she came out.
So I violated Rule # 1 and got out and stood by the door where the other mothers and
grandmothers waited for the children. And of course I had my explicit instructions
from Emily (and from all my grandchildren when they were that age;) “ Don’t wave
to me, don’t call me, I’ll look for you..., don't hug me or kiss me..."
I saw her right away as she walked out with her friend and though I couldn't make
out the words it was obvious that they were arguing They parted and Emily
looked on the street where my car usually was and then not seeing it glanced around
the crowd until she spotted me. I didn't get a wave or a hug or a kiss but I did get one
of her bright beautiful smiles.
When we got into the car I waited at least half a minute, "Wow, you girls were
really going at it...what made you so angry? She's your friend..."
"She's not! I don't like her anymore!"
"Oh, that's not...not ...nice." I said.
Emily gave me a long stare," You always say that Grandma."
"What?" I asked.
" Nice...not nice... be nice"
"Do I?" That word has bugged me all my life and I was passing it down the ages to
the next generation??
Not .... good.
THE END
