A search of my e-mail archive reveals that only 40 percent of
the messages I've sent in the last year-and-a-half contain any
version of the word "thanks," and just 2.5 percent are identified
as thank-yous in the subject line. These numbers seem
embarrassingly low. Surely, in one way or another, the majority of
my correspondents deserve my gratitude.
Lately I've been even worse at sending handwritten, snail-mail
acknowledgments of meals, presents and other favors. Once upon a
time I prided myself on mailing them the morning after receiving
any benefaction. Now it can take me weeks.
Fatherhood is a big part of the reason for my delinquency now.
In the form of baby presents from family and friends, it's given me
much to be thankful for, while robbing me of time for writing
thank-yous. At least that's how a chronic procrastinator thinks. In
my more rational moments, I remember that writing a gracious note
takes less time than even a casual phone call, and almost always
gives the recipient more pleasure.
The modern master of the thank-you note is former U.S. President
Bush. During his first national campaign back in 1980, one of his
sons met a hotel doorman who showed him a handwritten note that
George H. W. had penned more than ten years earlier. Something to
the effect of: "Thanks for getting my trousers dry-cleaned on such
short notice." No handshake or tip could have meant nearly as much
to that man.
I keep telling myself that story whenever I fall behind in my
correspondence, but it's not just a question of discipline;
environmental influence plays a role. The drop-off in my thank-you
output is partly a result of moving to another country. Italians,
like other Europeans in my experience, write to say thank you far
less often than Americans do. This difference has a lot to do with
the relative quality of the postal service. For all their
romanticism, Italians are a realistic people, and can't see the
point of mailing a note that might never arrive.
But the difference also reflects assumptions about manners and
social position. In the New World, anybody can feel he has the
right to act genteel. In the Old, most regard such formality as a
pretentious nuisance. (Except when they're on the receiving end,
that is. More than once since I moved here, I've had someone
effusively thank me for a thank-you note, leaving me tempted to
write another in turn, just to see what would happen.)
Americans are a lot more polite than we give ourselves credit
for -- that's something I appreciate more the longer I live abroad.
Not that we couldn't stand to improve. For instance, too many of us
eat while walking down the street, which is not only unattractive
but conducive to rampant obesity. But we are at least as polite as
any other people in the way we ask for and receive things. How many
nations have a national holiday devoted to saying thanks? (Okay,
the Canadians. They're even more polite than we are, but there are
so few of them, and they have so much space.)
So let me take this opportunity to thank everyone reading this
column, starting with my editor. Sorry it's a day late. And please
don't feel the need to write back.
topics:
Environment, NATO
