Acting up

It was just one in a series of seemingly endless excuses uttered by someone who has a repertoire that would put a politician to shame, yet it was on that particular day, the final straw for me.

Grousing about the unfairness, the insensitivity, the injustice of being asked to do something that was, essentially, just another part of the job, the self-proclaimed victim announced that this dreadful treatment was their reason for not acting right!

At first, I did a quick self-examination: am I simply old and crotchety? I own an iPod, on which I listen to everything from Eminem to Matisyahu; I still love to dance, although my knees often wrestle with the rest of me during certain signature moves; my friends range in age from twenty to the not-buying-green-bananas phase of life; and the last time I checked, I was still reasonably open-minded, albeit in a Democratic sort of way. Nope, I think I don’t quite fit the definition of geezerhood yet.

However, my temples still throbbed from a combination of indignation and clenched jaws. I took some deep breaths, muttered some very unladylike expletives to myself, and went about my business. But it took some restraint, and — as we have all done at one time or another — I brooded for a few hours over “What I Should Have Said” in response.

There are several stages of life during which we learn to “act right” (or don’t). The first one, obviously, is childhood.

In my house, the Golden Rule was recited ad infinitum, ad nauseam: “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you” was burned into our brains as firmly as our name/address/phone number. I don’t recall being told about the deep personal satisfaction we might achieve if we followed the Rule. But I do recall that we kids understood that if we didn’t behave we would get time-outs/scoldings/spankings. Or we’d be sent to our rooms until we were sorry or thirty years old, whichever came first. Even for a born rebel like me, it didn’t take too long to realize that things would run much more smoothly if I demonstrated at least the minimum of what is considered good behavior.

The second stage, (the one parents cringe over) is adolescence, when a near-lethal combination of hormones and peer pressure force us to act very, very badly. I’m not so old that I cannot remember how wretched it was being a teenager. Bullying, teasing, cruel exclusion, lying to parents and breaking hearts were all part of an average day. It wasn’t pretty, and by the time senior year of high school rolled around and we began to see ourselves as real people and not just kids, there was a lot of free-floating guilt in the air.

Fortunately, most of us became grownups. Somewhere along the way we experienced an “a-ha!” moment, or perhaps we just came to realize that there was huge personal gain to be had in “acting right.”

We’ve all known at least one person who partied continuously, gambled away every penny or dated all the wrong people. That person always had a convenient excuse, from parental neglect to the pressure of society, or even the Fates conspiring. I’ve known more than my share of those folks. Some of them aren’t around anymore; life got to be too much for them and they checked out early, or their bad choices had fatal consequences. The ones who were blessed with that “a-ha!” moment, however, are some of the happiest people I know. They have lives full of love, friends, meaningful work, and a keen awareness of the magnitude of life itself.

Acting right isn’t about following a specific set of rules. It’s about having a sense of personal responsibility, about doing what feels like the right thing, even if it isn’t what you necessarily want to do. It’s the antithesis of hedonism.

We are in the middle of desperate times. It may seem that the only option is to wait it out and hope things will improve, but there is one thing we can do.

We can take responsibility.

If you have an extra coat or jacket you’re not wearing, donate it so someone else will be warm this winter.

That $50 you were planning to play the slots with will buy dinner for at least 20 people who may not eat otherwise.

Your elderly neighbor can’t shovel her walk anymore. But you can do it for her. If you have a job, be grateful. There are millions of people out there who would take your place in a New York minute. Stop griping.

Act right.