Tag: relationships

It all boils down to one thing

“I wish there was a way to know you were in the good old days before you actually left them.”
— Edward Parker Helms, actor, comedian, writer, and producer.

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“I miss the good ol’ days,” someone said to kick off the coffee klatch last week.

“Yeah? What do you miss the most,” another queried?

Answers from those who had gathered to solve the world’s problems over strong, hot coffee were many. “Drivers who actually understand the concept of turn signals and stop signs.“ “How about people who let you finish a sentence without interrupting?” “Manners. Where did the good old day’s of being a decent person go?” “Courtesy — I remember my mother telling me that if you can’t say something nice about someone, just smile and don’t say anything at all.” “I miss how people could talk about their differences without calling each other names.”

“Yeah,” one of the problem solving coffee sippers agreed, ‘”My grandaddy said when slinging slurs and vulgar names start, be kind and understand that it’s folks who can’t help it. They just never learned an educated vocabulary to have a civil discussion with.”

Thoughts and opinions bounced around before silence fell on my side of the table. Just as I had a story to share.

Imagine that.

“It all boils down to one thing,” I began my two cents and change. “Respect. Years ago, as a young editor, I wrote what I believed was a balanced editorial. Carefully presenting both sides of a controversial local issue before supporting my position with facts. After committing my points to posterity, I sent the piece to press for the next edition.”

In those days, I arrived at the office by 6 a.m. at the latest to get a head start in the morning’s quietness before unlocking the door right before 8. The next morning, a visitor walked up as I was turning the key in the lock. A local attorney, a well-known and respected community leader. He was twice my age, tall and broad-shouldered, and his deep wisdom was matched by his deeper voice.

In his hand was a rolled-up copy of that day’s edition. The one bearing my carefully crafted editorial opinion.

“You got a minute for me,” he asked politely.

I returned his civility with a smile and, “Yes sir — always. Come in. The coffee is on.”

We sat down in my office, and he began, “I’ve read your editorial in today’s paper, and I disagree with your opinion. I think your argument is flawed.”

“OK,” I replied politely. “I did my research, and feel confident in having published it. But that said, with your experience and wisdom, I am eager to hear your viewpoints.”

I listened to him with respect and without interrupting. Respect for my elders, respect for authority, and courtesy in hearing out the opinions of others were virtues my parents instilled in me at an early age. My father summed it up by reminding me that a wise man learns more by listening than he does by talking.

When my morning visitor concluded, I expressed my gratitude to him for taking the time to share his thoughts and views with me. I also told him that I fully respected his opinions and would research them further, but for the moment, I still felt strongly that I was on the right track with mine.

He was quiet for a moment. I likewise sat silently. I had no idea what he might say next. That’s when he smiled and said, “Well, I thank you for hearing me out. I wish I could have persuaded you otherwise about your views, but I respect your right to your opinions, and I support your right to express them. Even if we can’t agree.”

Then he said something that I have come to understand more fully as the years have passed. “If we ever fail to respect each other’s freedom to express an opinion, I fear, we will have lost our country.”

With a hearty handshake and a smile, he rolled up the newspaper, put it under his arm and said, “Feel free to stop my office anytime for coffee.” Then he walked out the door.

“I recall that conversation often,” I started to wrap up my story. “Usually when I consider lifelong friends who might hold views on topics ranging from ‘politics to pole cats,’ as my grandmother used to say, very different from mine. And I value them knowing that our mutual respect exemplifies our belief that true friendship outweighs our differences in opinion. That hate and differences of opinion do not have to travel the same path.

I ended last week’s coffee shop commentary saying, “I had good parenting examples. My dad was a lifelong Democrat. My mother was an unrelenting Republican. Each voted their convictions, effectively canceling the other’s vote in every election. Yet, they were happily married for 63 years. Through love, they respected each other’s opinions, even when they disagreed.

“It worked then,” I said with a shoulder shrug. “And I believe it would work today. If more people just realized that with love and respect, we can salvage some of those good old days.

“Before they are completely gone.”

—Leon Aldridge

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Aldridge columns are featured in these publications: The Center Light and Champion, The Mount Pleasant Tribune, the Rosenberg Fort Bend Herald, the Taylor Press, the Alpine Avalanche,  the Fort Stockton Pioneer, the Elgin Courier, The Monitor in Naples, and Motor Sports Magazine.

© Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling 2025. Excerpts and links may be used, provided full and clear credit is given to Leon Aldridge and ‘A Story Worth Telling’ with appropriate and specific directions to the original content.

It’s just the way my daddy trained me

“Things Money Can’t Buy: Time. Happiness. Integrity. Love. Manners. Respect. Trust. Class. Common sense. Dignity.” ― Roy T. Bennett, inspirational author

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“You don’t have to get up,” someone told me during an introduction and handshake meeting last week.

“Are you kidding,” I laughed as I rose to my feet. “That’s the way my daddy trained me. I don’t know any other way.”

Good manners will never be down and out in a civilized society, we agreed at the boomers coffee klatch last week. But random acts of kindness and courtesy once commonly taught in every home are gowing scare in public places.

“It’s not as much of a thing as it used to be,” one personality-less employee in a local business told me last week. Guess they didn’t like my facetious “thank you” for noticing their overwhelming lack of customer service and manners.

All debates aside, the boomers coffee klatch also agreed on one thing. Courtesy and manners still matter. We all get one chance to make a first impression. Often, before we ever speak the first word.

“You always dress that way for work,” I recall a member of management asking one of the new guys on a job many years ago.

“Yeah,” the newbie stuttered,

“And you always address your supervisors and elders with, “Yeah? Where’s your manners?” Before the young man could dig himself any deeper, the manager offered advice I’ve never forgotten.

“If you want customers and colleagues to perceive you as a professional, you have to dress and act like a professional. No one gives you respect for free, you earn it by the way you present yourself and the way you treat others.”

Manners were important to my parents and grandparents. Something for which I have always been deeply grateful. Learning manners requires no textbook and very little intelligence. Just treat others like you would like to be treated.

“Manners make the man,” Mom used to say. “Real men are considerate of others, especially ladies.” My father made sure I understood that one well one day at the Perry’s 5¢ and 10¢ store in downtown Mount Pleasant where he was the manager. Quickly stepping up to hold the door for a lady behind us, he smiled and said, “Please pardon my rude son. I’ve tried to teach him some manners, but he seems to have forgotten that today.”

A big one with my grandmother was hats. “A gentleman always removes his hat indoors,” she reminded me often. “Take that cap off,” she informed me the first time. “It’s rude to wear a hat inside. And don’t ever sit down to eat with a cap or hat on your head.”

The second time, she wasn’t as subtle. She snatched the cap off my head, handed it to me, and asked, “What did I tell you about a gentleman and a hat indoors? People will think you were raised in a barn.”

My grandmother also clearly illustrated “Please” and “Thank you.” She bought a strawberry ice cream cone one afternoon at Lockett’s Drug Store soda fountain in downtown Pittsburg, Texas and handed it to me. Just as I was about to enjoy the first bite, she abruptly took it back.

“Thank you,” she said to the young man who had just scooped the delectable delight. She then took a bite of it and said, “You must not have appreciated it, I didn’t hear you thank anyone.”

After a most humble “thank you” to both her and the soda fountain attendant, she returned the ice cream cone to me … minus one bite. The price for missing my manners.

“What do you say when speaking to someone?” I remember Mom asking.

“Yes,” I responded.

“Yes … what?”

I soon learned that “Yes, ma’am” and “Yes, sir” were the only acceptable words for a mannerly answer. As were “No, ma’am” and “No, sir.”

“Manners are not important just because I say so,” Dad told me many times. “They are a measure of how you respect people. If you show others respect, they will respect you.”

Someone asked me about a fellow employee in a workplace not long ago, “Why doesn’t she respect me when I ask her for something?”

Recalling the words of the supervisor I always remembered and my father’s words, I said, “Could be the way you ask. No one gives you respect for free, you earn it only by giving it.”

True enough, money doesn’t buy respect or manners. But if it did, a lot of people these days are apparently broke.

—Leon Aldridge

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Aldridge columns are featured in these publications: The Center Light and Champion, The Mount Pleasant Tribune, the Rosenberg Fort Bend Herald, the Taylor Press, the Alpine Avalanche,  the Fort Stockton Pioneer, the Elgin Courier, The Monitor in Naples, and Motor Sports Magazine.

© Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling 2025. Excerpts and links may be used, provided full and clear credit is given to Leon Aldridge and ‘A Story Worth Telling’ with appropriate and specific directions to the original content.