It seems to me that there are two phases in which we all exist.
One – where everything is proper, where one moves about with check valves highly active in the brain. One stifles yawns, sits upright on chairs, politely declines third helpings (even if it’s a favorite dish) and resigns to second (for fear of insulting the cook).
And the other – where one sits with one leg thrown around the backrest of the chair (my pose as I type this), gluts on chocolate cake, whistles out of tune, jumps on newly made beds; etiquette be damned.
Most of us would say the second happens when one is all alone. Or maybe when one is with family. And a few close friends to whom one has nothing to prove. Or when one is working or too engrossed in something to care.
So why care the rest of the time? It seems to me that for every act of “good” behavior one tries to accumulate credit in the onlookers’ mind. Just so that one is taken seriously by them later. Then there are others. Those who appear to do anything they want to do. Why some of them still retain their claim to good opinion while others are alternately ridiculed and despised remains a complete mystery.
And there are still others. Those that are so saturated with genuine sophistication that it seems inconceivable that they could be otherwise. Wonder if they’re missing out on things or the other way round.
