Winter puts a lot of us in survival mode and creates some interesting social phenomena. When you're worried that your earlobes are going to freeze and fall off into the hood of your coat, it's sometimes difficult to consider the needs of people around you.
But I'm here to tell you that chivalry is not completely dead, though it is showing definite signs of terminal illness. It was alive - sporadically - on my bus several times in the past few days. Of course, there were those who not only celebrated its imminent demise but hurried it along in a definite Kevorkianesque manner.Chivalry, of course, is defined as men - originally knights - doing kindly deeds for the helpless - mostly women. I don't consider most women helpless, and I firmly believe there are too many hollow expressions of chivalry that are meaningless in terms of doing anything to actually help anyone.
Meaningless acts of chivalry include pulling out a chair and pushing it in for a woman or waiting while all the women on an elevator exit first. It is nothing but annoying to have some man fooling around with your chair when you're trying to simply sit down at a table. In a business setting, it's worse than annoying. It's meaningless and inappropriate.
I've vented my feelings before about the whole elevator etiquette thing. What is even remotely helpful about a man waiting inside an elevator while the women go out the door first? It's meaningless chivalry and absolutely painless for the knight performing the deed.
OK, I admit some men are trying to do the right thing, and I give them credit for trying. But I have to wonder what the same men would do if they rode my bus in the winter.
On Monday and Tuesday this week, my bus ride from Kaysville took about two hours. On Tuesday, I stood up for the long trip to work. It didn't bother me that no one - man or woman - offered to take a turn standing; I was near the end of the line waiting for the bus to arrive, so it was my own fault. The bus route starts in Ogden, so it's nearly full by the time I get on - full of people who have been sitting for quite a while . . . .
But it would have been nice, and if not chivalrous at least courteous, if someone had offered a seat for a few minutes of relief. When I'm sitting and someone is standing, I always offer to take a turn and usually that person takes me up on it.
It's not a gender issue. Chivalry that puts women in the category of the helpless deserves to die. It's simply a courtesy issue. If someone - man or woman - needs a door held open, then whoever is close - man or woman - should offer to help. Nobody - man or woman - should have to stand for an entire two-hour bus ride.
There are some other interesting aspects to the winter bus etiquette question. On Monday, there were no seats available on my bus when I climbed on. I and another woman were left standing - but not for long. Two men who appeared to be in their 70s immediately jumped up and absolutely refused to retake their seats. So we sat down.
I tried to get them to sit down after a half-hour or so, but they were adamant. Sitting down while a woman stood was simply not possible for those two gentlemen. Being much older and more frail than me didn't matter. I doubt having a broken leg would have mattered.
Then there's the young man I encountered last winter who is perched firmly at the opposite end of the courtesy spectrum. He was sitting on the bus, engrossed in a book, when several people, including a pregnant woman, got on. He glanced up briefly then went back to his reading. The woman teetered next to him for a minute or two before someone else offered her a seat.
What made this incident especially ironic was that the young man was reading an "inspirational" volume written for the LDS audience.
The difference between the two elderly bus riders and the young scholar was obvious: The two older men believed in meaningful chivalry, or simple courtesy, and the young man didn't. I wondered what he did believe in. But I wouldn't be surprised if he waits for women to exit the elevator ahead of him.