You're Welcome

I was raised in a house where “please” and “thank you” were not options. And even if my parents were not around to catch infractions, my OCD-riddled sister Anne certainly was. “Say ‘thank you’” she would say like a metronome. “Say ‘thank you’”. It got to the point that I would say it, even if the occasion did not call for it just to avoid the grating sound of her voice.

But I think that people these days could use a dose of my sister Anne, because people simply do not say “thanks” anymore.

Case in point: I was walking into Jeni’s Ice Cream with my son Jude on Monday evening. It was crowded, as usual, and congested around the entry. The door opens outward to the sidewalk, and, since I was on the sidewalk, I grabbed the door and held it open. Normal. Common. I’m not asking for a medal here, I’m just trying to set the stage. Out march a group of six people – adults. Stone faced, pregnant (at least one of them) and fully capable of speech, but not one of those little punkass bastards uttered as much as an acknowledgement that there was someone (me!) making their exit from the store possible. I’m no hero, but I will tell you this, I’m not a paid doorman, either. The very least they could have done was open their ice-cream-eating mouths and said, “Thanks.”

The very worst was the last guy out the door. Not only did he not say thank you, but he actually said, “Sorry, it’s just easier for us to come out than for you to come in.” What the hell? Really? That was so much easier for you to do than to prostrate yourself in front of the altar of thankfulness?

When we fail to thank people for the little things, it starts to creep into the big things, too. I’m from a large family, and have my share of nieces and nephews. I’ve spent countless dollars and time on those little shitheads, and you would think that the very least they (and by that, I mean their mother who, see above, practically tortured me into phobia about thank you saying) could do is write a simple, three sentence thank you note: “Thank you for the money. I will use it to fund my underage drinking habit. Thanks again, for thinking of me.” Or, since holding a pencil and finding a stamp seem to be so challenging (despite the fact that two of them are in college), a simple phone call would do. Nope, they want nothing to do with it. Okay, how about just saying the words when you’re standing in front of me? Sorry, that’s too hard, too. I had two nephews and a niece standing IN THE SAME ROOM as me over Christmas, HOLDING THE GIFT CARDS I’D BOUGHT THEM WITH MY OWN MONEY THAT I EARNED in their graspy little hands, and they could not bring themselves to mutter a simple, “Thanks”.

I find it even more egregious when the gift is to someone unrelated. I mean, nieces and nephews are practically an obligation, but recent graduates are not. Over the years, I’ve written countless checks to new grads, contained in cards wishing them well. Number of checks cashed: all of them. Number of thank you cards: zero. Seriously, parents, follow the rule my friend Angela uses: you don’t cash it until a thank you is in the mail. My rule is a little different: I simply find out where they are attending college, find their dorm, and tell everyone in it that they have scabies. It’s a tough world, grads.

In the big scheme of things, it’s about gratitude. Just having gratitude that a person took a moment to hold a door, or let you in during rush hour traffic, or sent you a check that the government did not require them to send. And it’s not just about feeling that gratitude, but expressing it, like a human. And for me, it’s about following my motto: do good things, and then complain until someone acknowledges it.

Thanks, everyone!!!!