A Return to Niceness

Voluminous volumes have been scribed about the decay of American moral values in the last 30 years. And one can hardly blame the writers. A quick peek through your wrought-iron window grills confirms the truth: it's mean out there. Where once America was nothing but promenade upon promenade of well-dressed and even-better-heeled Americans radiating goodwill and even-better-cheer, now a trip outside is more like American Gladiators week on That Jerry Springer Show.

Pundits have linked our present reality to a swan dive from the values of the Great Generation, though few have had the guts to tell those geezers that every generation calls itself that, even the flappers. And they were about as great as the work ethic on a cocaine farm. But still, sentimentalists pine for the days when Americans were good and the Japs were bad, not the great flip-flop of the 1980's when the opposite was true, or even today, when both Americans and Japanese are merely okay.

Back in the days after World War II things were more black and white, literally. A man stood by his word, unless he was a prick. And yes, there were pricks even back then. There have always been pricks, through the shores of time. There were pricks in the Garden of Eden! Two of them! There was a reason nobody ever came to visit Adam and Eve, you know.

Today, however, everyone is a prick. Even you. Don't argue, it just proves my point further. Gone are the days when strangers lent a helping hand and people called each other "friend." No, we've progressed through "pal," "bub" and "mac" on this increasingly sarcastic train to Pricksville. Now even "Jerk!" is seen as a friendly greeting, better that than "Hey fag-ass, get that piece of shit off the road!" or "Bitch, I said paper AND plastic!"

Back in kinder days, comedy was about making people feel good about themselves, thinking of funny ways to say how smart and good-looking someone was. Today, it's all about tearing down the fragile façade of someone's personality and copulating with their nose-hole in an aggressive fashion. Oh, what a lark.

These days the prevailing ethic is every man for himself, and women had better stay skinny to keep themselves useful. If I don't know you, you can suck on my nuts, greaseball. And God forbid you should drive your car like you own it and didn't just steal it out of a police impound lot. That's grounds for being run off the road in most states.

How did we get here? Was it the sixties? Or the eighties? Was it drugs, violence in the movies or sugar-coated breakfast cereals? Was it sex out of wedlock, on the beach or on a train with a fox? Or was it the Disney Channel? Was it the Three Stooges, or just one of them? Was it rap music, fast food or SUVs? Ooh, that's a good one. I hate those SUVs. They're so hard to park.

In truth, nobody can say exactly what it was that turned us all into card-carrying members of Jerks Anonymous. Maybe there are just too many people on the planet for us to be polite anymore. Too many things to do and places to be, and too many people in the way, driving seventeen miles an hour with the turn signal on. Maybe it was inevitable. But I'd like to think we can do better. Even when the world rubs us the wrong way, we need to rise above and treat all people with dignity and respect.

Unless they "borrowed" a section out of your newspaper without asking. Those people can just fucking die.