“Mom, you can’t say that. You have to generalize,” my son said, as if I’d personally offended all of modern society in one sentence. He gave me The Look—the one kids use when they think they’re explaining rocket science to someone who still struggles with microwaves. My blank stare must have confirmed his suspicions. He went on, patiently, like he was training me for the modern Olympics of communication: no pronouns, no identities, and absolutely no inflammatory language, aka the ultimate verbal tightrope walk.
I mulled it over. How do I survive this brave new world of conversational landmines without blowing up my own credibility? Is this how people felt during the industrial revolution when machines took over their jobs (or is that AI now?) —or am I just proving my ability to make completely irrelevant historical comparisons? Wait, is that what a revisionist does? Maybe I’m one of those now too.
Basically, I’m a walking ‘ist’ no matter what I do. Or maybe I’m just an ‘ist’ no matter how I shake it because I’m over 50 and not hip. But I’ve never been hip. Or cool. Or trendy or whatever the new word of the day is. Now I’m an ageist.
Modern Etiquette: Navigating the Dos, Don’ts, and “Please Don’ts”
Ah, etiquette. Once upon a time, you could crack open an Emily Post book. You could also pen a heartfelt letter to Dear Abby. You might ask her to weigh in on whether elbows on the table were really the first step toward societal collapse. But now? We have Google, the supposed oracle of all wisdom… except when it delivers a flood of articles that range from “How to Address Royalty” (because that happens daily) to the latest rules of texting (no punctuation—unless you want to sound angry).
The deeper I went into the rabbit hole of modern manners, the more questions surfaced in my mind. Is it still rude to point? Are we shaking hands or sticking with the universally awkward elbow bump? And do I need to add pronouns to my email signature just to say “Thanks, Linda” without causing a mild HR crisis?
Still, I wonder—how did we get here? Did people in the industrial revolution struggle with fork placement at their coal-fueled dinner parties? Or am I overthinking this because I’m officially over 50 and out of sync with the “cool” crowd? Not that I was ever cool. Or trendy. Or even remotely hip.
Let’s face it: I’m not just navigating etiquette—I’m becoming an ist. Ageist (thanks, years), unhip-ist (always), and now possibly a revisionist for even imagining historical figures debating table manners. But hey, at least I’m learning. So here’s to modern etiquette: when in doubt, ask Google—or better yet, ask your kids. Just don’t expect a straight answer without some judgmental side-eye.
Happy Mother’s Day
“Mothers are like glue. Even when you can’t see them, they’re still holding the family together.”
Susan Gale
Maybe the answer isn’t online at all. Maybe I should follow the modern oracle sitting across the dinner table—my son. No explicit pronouns, no identity distinctions, no inflammatory anything. Basically, talk like I’m narrating a wildlife documentary: vague, neutral, and inoffensive. It’s Mother’s Day, after all. The least I can do is pretend to listen to his sage advice.
Once upon a time ago I became a mom in 1984, then 1990 and then a grandmother in 2010. It’s been an amazing adventure in love throughout the years growing every day in joy and love…so very blessed.
I can’t keep a house plant alive. I’m amazed that I did manage to navigate keeping a couple of humans going. And I guess that’s all that counts, right?
Happy Mother’s Day!
Sending you love and happiness. ❤️