Loading...
The Citizen, 1994-05-25, Page 5THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, MAY 25, 1994. PAGE 5. ■? Arthur Black Haveaniceday — the English language soft spot Today I would like to launch a full-frontal assault on the most insidious phase in the English language. The phrase is: "Haveaniceday". Everybody slings it at you. Postal clerks. Traffic cops. Shoeshinepersons. Used car salesmen. Ice cream vendors. Bus drivers. Matchbooks. Cocktail napkins. Haveaniceday. There was a judge in Cortland, New York who recently sent a crook to the slammer for seven years with the following summation: "You are hereby remanded to the custody of the sheriffs department for delivery to the custody of state officials. Have a nice day." Which for me, is a perfect illustration of why the phrase has got to go. It doesn't meant anything. People who tell you to Haveaniceday couldn't really care less if you got hit by a Greyhound Bus once you're out of their sight. It's a kissoff phrase. What it really means is: "Next!" Haveaniceday. One of the few soft spots in an otherwise magnificent language. The French say "Au revoir". The Spanish send you on your way with "Hasta la vista". The Germans wish you Auf Wiedersehen. And International Scene By Raymond Canon Tips for travelling abroad My daughter-in-law, who teaches high school art, has just returned from taking a group of artistically inclined students for a 10-day tour of art galleries in Venice, Florence and Rome with a side trip to Assisi. Being the persuasive type, she talked my son into going along with her to help keep the herd in line. A telephone call informed me of the good news and then came the question I knew would be asked sooner or later during the conversation. "What do we need to know before we set out?" For the benefit of any of my readers who may be planning a foreign trip this summer, I give you an abridged version of what I told my son and daughter-in-law. One of the first questions I get is how much of the language do I need to know in order to get along. The answer is simply that if you don't know any German, French, Italian etc. yet, now is not the time to start any intensive course. Perhaps you should know such things as, for example, the foreign version of "I don't speak Italian. Where is the washroom? How much is it? How are you? Thank you, Goodbye." There may be a few other expressions for a specific occasion but, if you take a small phrase book, that should do the trick. Unless you speak a language fluently, you are not going to haggle with the locals exchange money without running the risk of being cheated. Try wearing a Canadian flag but don’t think for a minute that everybody who wears one is a Canadian. I still run into young Americans who have a maple leaf on, but the Italians bid you a magnificent tongue­ tumbling "Arrivederci". And what do we say? We say: "Haveaniceday". Such a wussy, smile-button, Ronald McDonald style benediction. Maybe the problem is the very word 'nice'. When we swiped the word from the French back in the 13th century, 'nice' connoted 'foolish; senseless'. After a couple of hundred years 'nice' came to mean 'elegant' -in a show-offy kind of way. Later, 'nice' could mean lazy, effeminate, tender or subtle, depending on the linguistic whim the day. "Nice" has been around the block a few times, and there are some folks in London, England who would like to put it into permanent retirement. Ray Chandler and Jo Ellen Grzyb run a course called The Nice Factor. They charge students the equivalent of $300 Canadian to loosen those stiff British upper lips and sharpen their tongues. They teach executives, housewives, lawyers - whoever needs it - not to be so dashed diffident. In other words, stop being so bloody "nice" all the time. "The disease of niceness cripples more lives than alcoholism" claims Chandler, and perhaps he's right. His partner, Jo Ellen, says she's a recovering nice person. "I was so nice I used to apologize to plants and sofas that I bumped into." Chandler and Grzyb aren’t trying to turn out social commandos ready to stomp with jackboots where they used to cringe and that is because Canadians are generally.well liked both in Europe and Asia and are not as likely to run into the hassles as the Americans. If you do wear a flag, don't do anything to disgrace it. Act and speak politely and do not reflect negatively on something in another country just because you think the Canadian version is better. My daughter-in-law informed me that she got charged some outrageous prices while in Italy. I replied that I was not surprised. She had simply forgotten Rule No. 11,250. Never go into a restaurant without looking at the menu that is supposed to be posted outside. If you do not not see one, ask for one but never, never sit down and order without knowing what the price is. You are just asking to be cheated. Also, be sure to find out if the service (tip) is contained in the price (as it is in Switzerland). You can add a bit extra if you think the service is worth it but it is not mandatory. This is actually something you should know before you even set foot in the country. What about money? Well, a couple of weeks before you go, drop in at your friendly bank and order enough cash in a foreign currency to see you through the first day or so. The rest of the money you can take in travellers' cheques and be sure to put the numbers as you cash the cheques. You can also use credit cards; they are generally accepted everywhere. Do not leave your money in a hotel room; one of the modem belt purses should do the trick. Never exchange money at the border, a hotel or an international airport. These are the places where the exchange rate is likely to be the least favourable. Just because something is sold in a duty- free store does not mean that it is a bargain. It may be, if the exchange rate is at a certain cower. "We are not against being nice itself, but we try to help people who are always nice - even to people who do not deserve it - and whose lips always say yes when their minds say no." Well, I suppose some folks could use such a course. But it's sad that we need a course to teach people how to be less generous. I much prefer the rumours I hear of an underground movement that's flickering across North America right now. Near as I can tell, this movement vyas bomin the brain of Gavin Whitsett, a professor of communications as the University of Indiana. Whitsett engages in what he calls "random acts of senseless kindness". He buries nickels in sandboxes for kids to find. He clips coupons for foodstuffs he doesn't want and leaves them anonymously on the shelves of his local supermarket. He takes his Polaroid camera to the park or the beach and snaps pictures of happy families or couples in love - then gives them the photo. No charge. No here's-my-business-card. No we-must-do-lunch. Just.. .guerrilla kindness. Whitsett defines it as "doing unexpected, kind things for other people, whether you know them or not." Imagine. Actually being nice instead of chanting "Have a nice day". Can you imagine what world this would be if we all caught Gavin Whitsett's disease? Catch you next week. I'm off to bury a few nickels. level, but it is by no stretch of the imagination of general rule. I very seldom use these stores except to make use of some excess change at the end of a trip. There are bargains but you have to know where they are. European hotels are frequently not overly generous with soap. Take some along with you. Toilet paper sometimes looks as if it were made on the same assembly line as sandpaper; take some of the former along with you if you think that is going to be a problem. Many hotels are not air conditioned so be prepared to sleep with the window open and thus be subject to more noise. That is why I choose my hotels carefully and, if I like them, I stick with them. European hotels are more generous with breakfast than they used to be. Since this meal is normally part of the price, you can, if you are on a tight budget, have a late breakfast and then make do until the evening meal. If you feel you might get hungry, go to a grocery store and buy a few basic items to tide you over until supper. I do that and it works quite nicely. Dry cleaning is expensive; avoid if at all possible. So is gasoline; if you rent a car, get a compact or even a sub compact. If you are young, consider staying at youth hostels, of which there are many in Europe. By now you will get the idea how to prepare for a trip. You can't all marry someone whose father is a brilliant economist and a world traveller to boot, but you can leam a few common rules that will go a long way to removing a lot of the sting out of a foreign trip. [DON’T FORGET TOl WRITE - The Citizen welcomes letters to the editor A few minutes in a day just to be It's amazing the energy that comes with a few days of warm weather and sunshine. After months spent wondering why there are not enough hours in the day, suddenly this past weekend it seemed to me I was able to cram a lot of living into 48 hours. There were jobs that got done and endless hours left to play before the sun went down at night. But as Sunday evening approached, and feeling about as lively as a turtle on Valium, I began to wonder if maybe I'd been a little too busy. I should have realized that having primarily limited my exertion this past winter to housework and snuggling into the cosiest chair I could find, there was bound to be some physical price to pay for a change of pace. The surge of activity began Saturday morning as the soothing sun and beckoning breeze drew me out from undercovers bright and early. After getting most of my routine jobs accomplished, I hastened outside to attempt, with my slightly stained green thumb, the beginning of a beautification process for my always challenging flower beds. By suppertime, with a sun still high in the sky, we were inspired to drive to the lake to hunt down a summer holiday spot, then visited family before returning home at midnight. Sunday morning was more activity as my daughter and I were off to see the Jays (lose). Unfortunately, there's only one way to get there and hitting 401 always has the same effect on me; that of being caught on a treadmill and wanting desparately to get off and catch my breath. Inside the Dome the sun beat unmercifully down upon our heads, until it was time to leave, when we were swirled away in a tide of floating bodies amidst the fiery asphalt and concrete of TO. A hurried dinner, then back in the mayhem of Metro traffic, until finally after almost two hours, we found ourselves closer to home and tranquility. Breathing a sigh of relief and gazing around the countryside I spy a group of Amish men standing al the side of the road. In the field next to them there is a ballgame, the players dressed in Sunday best while some girls stand at the fence watching them. What was truly amazing was they all gave the impression of having nothing better to do. The scene was one so full of relaxation and entertainment that I found myself a little envious. There have been those drenching, monsoon type days when, while driving comfortably in my car, I have passed an Amish family, huddled in blankets, under umbrellas in their buggy and wondered how they can continually look at the comfort and the advantages we have and not want them. Then Sunday, I looked at their simple pleasures, their modest needs, and interestingly the fast- paced, go, go, go of my life didn't look quite so perfect. I looked at my daughter and said, "You know, I'm not sure those people are all wrong." My weekend had been great, full of work and activity, but I’d forgotten life's simple pleasures — putting away the rake for a game of catch or stopping on the way to the clothesline to watch a bird find a worm. With extra time in my weekend, I should have given myself a few minutes just to be.