I was in the Chicago airport waiting to board a flight to Vancouver, Canada, when the gate agent announced that the flight was going to be delayed. She then asked the passengers to line up and re-book their flights. There was a lot
of sighing and distressed looks but for the most part everyone maintained a certain degree of calm.
However, one gentleman ( and I say that loosely), kept trying to weasel his way to the front of the line.
Finally he was able to get the gate agents attention and began to assault her with demands as to his absolute need to get to Vancouver as he had extremely urgent business.
She kept her cool and kept repeating that there were a lot of people ahead of him and he would have to wait his turn.
It was then that he decided to use the phrase that has become the mantra of the 21st century culture of entitlement.
“Do you know who I am” he snarled. She had a sardonic grin on her face as she picked up her microphone and said, “Attention, attention,does anyone in this room know who this man is”? He seems to have lost his identity”.
There was suddenly an outburst of guffaws from those in line. The man, now red-faced and looking like he had been constipated for months responded, “Well, we’ll see about that! I want to speak to your supervisor, where is he”? The agent, once again with a huge smirk on her face said ” He’s at the end of the line waiting for me to get him a new flight”.
This type of behavior has grown exponentially over the years as more and more of our society feels their “special” or entitled. They have in essence lost their identity and their humanity. When we begin to believe that we are the center of the universe instead of a piece of the universe, we lose sight of the fact that we are part of a global community that needs to exhibit patience, kindness, compassion and a lightness of being.
The holidays seem to increase the stress that is already so much a part of our society. Perhaps this season, more than ever give the gift of patience, a gift that could influence peace and good will towards all mankind.
As a young teen, I would beg my mother to let me wear blue jeans. Her response was always a very forceful “No!”
Her rationale was the fact that she felt they were unladylike. I finally got my first pair after I was married. They were baggy and had the look of someone who was about to plow the North 40. My kids practically lived in overalls called OshKosh B’Gosh, which were all the rage, and my husband had a grownup version. I loved how comfortable my jeans were, and they really suited my lifestyle. A T-shirt and a pair of sneakers was all you needed to get through the day.
Well, blue jeans have certainly evolved and transitioned into an entire industry that seems to have created a national uniform for most Americans. When I travel I see hordes of people wearing them. There are still individuals attired in the slouchy jeans of my generation, but some of the newer versions look more like applied body paint.
Recently I was in the airport sitting at a coffee shop when I happened to notice a few women standing in line waiting to get served. They all had jeans on, but they were so tight they looked as if they were going to shred into a million pieces if they made one wrong move. As I continued to observe them, I kept thinking, “How do they get them on or off?”
I gave up wearing panty hose because I would often feel like a sausage. I hate tight anything because it makes me feel like I’ve been captured by maniacal fashion designers who care more about their designs than how they look or feel on real people. Believe me, I’m not advocating for shrouds, but shouldn’t there be a modicum of common sense around what we look like?
Tight jeans, tight underwear, tight anything has some unhealthy side effects. Skin and our parts are supposed to be able to breathe and have circulation available to them. I’m surprised there aren’t more people calling 911, because they can’t get their pants off and are being strangled by them. The other issue for me is that a lot of individuals who encase themselves in tight jeans should find a three-way mirror and have a good look. They just may think twice before they go out the door.