Excuse me, is that your rudeness showing?

Warning: The following is a rant about manners.

If you have none and want to learn how to acquire some, continue reading.

If you have none and do not care, do not continue reading.

If you have manners, and are curious about what my rant will be, continue on...


If you don't fall into any of the aforementioned categories, I simply cannot help you.


Today I attended a scrapbook convention with two friends, (yes they actually have scrapbook conventions). Anyway, we had a wonderful day. If you've never heard of such a thing, allow me to explain. A scrapbook convention is scrapbook nirvana for a scrapbook addict. (Hey, I just used the word "scrapbook" three times in one sentence. Certainly must be close to a record.)

Getting back to the convention. When you walk into the place, spread out before your disbelieving eyes are rows upon rows of scrapbook booths. It's enough to make a scrapbooker stumble and stagger towards the automatic defibrillator hanging on the wall for cardiac emergencies. Participating in the convention are local stores, stores throughout the state, as well as from around the country. They all converge in this hall for three days to peddle their wares and contribute to shop 'til you drop mania.


What does all of this have to due with manners? Patience, my dear reader. I'm getting to that. About as quickly as two turtles playing tag, I know but I am getting to my point. As we walk through the crowded convention, people are naturally jockeying for position to drool all over the various scrapbook supplies, hanging there all glittery, sparkly, and colorful. Some booths are more crowded than others, and there is the occasional accidental bump into a fellow scrapbook addict, followed by an apologetic "I'm sorry". But this year I noticed something unusual. Something annoying. Something that troubled my heart. More often than not, when I was bumped, there was no "pardon me", or anything even remotely resembling an apology. Now I'm not naive. I know that there are some people out there who are not even aware they've bumped you. This I can forgive. But today I was practically body slammed by a woman carrying a very large box. Was there an apology? Nope. I got nothing. She knew she hit me because there was a trail of blood for the remainder of her walk, and her box was crushed. I'm kidding of course, but I think I've made my point. And I had so many other less violent encounters without so much as an "excuse me". I would have been happy with some sort of grunt. But once again, I got nothing.


What is wrong with people? Are we so uncivilized that we no longer acknowledge each other's existence, let alone respect their personal space?


Can you tell I'm ranting now? Sheesh. It's enough to make a blogger cranky.


Until she takes out all of the scrapbook goodies she bought "on sale" at the glorious scrapbook convention.


Ah, new scrapbook supplies. Balm for the wounded, bumped-into soul.