You can tell a lot about someone by how they greet you in the morning. I have a tendency to say an abbreviated “‘Mornin'” to people I pass. I am always impressed and envious of those people who greet me with a bright “Good morning,” clearly enunciated. How to do they find the energy that cheerful so early?
With our kids, the greetings seems to decline with age. The Little Man usually offers a relatively bright, “Good morning” when I makes his way into the living room. The Little Miss also has a fairly cheerful, “Good morning, Daddy,” when she wakes up. The Littlest Miss usually offers a grunt followed by a whiny, “I’m still tired,” or “I’m not ready.”
Days of the week seem to matter. Growing up Sunday seemed to be the grumpiest day of the week in terms of greetings. Unintelligible grunts were the order of the day.
I see a wide variety of greetings on my morning walk. Bright, enthusiastic, “Good mornings,” to my more muted “‘Morning!” to a mumble. Sometimes, a nod and smile can be just as good as an enthusiastic ‘Good morning.’ One person that I frequently see on my morning walk offers a deluxe package, “Good morning!” he says with a wave, “Happy Friday!” Or sometimes, “Good morning! Hump day!” if it is a Wednesday.
No where I’ve been are greetings offered more plentifully and genuinely than in Maine. Walking the streets of Castine, for instance, I’ll pass by a dozen people on my morning walk and get a dozen cheerful greetings and half a dozen offers of conversation. It is almost as welcoming when we visit southwestern Florida, and walk on the path that encircles the community in which my mother-in-law lives. It makes me wonder if all of the snow birds living in Florida in the winter are originally from Maine.
I tend to find the opposite in New York City and its outskirts. Taking the train into the city for a Yankees game, no one offers greetings. The Yankees fans on the train jeer at the few Mets fans they see, but greet one another heartily. Beyond that, no one is saying good morning, or good evening, for that matter. I don’t remember much in the way of greetings in Los Angeles either, although there were a few exceptions. When I lived in Studio City and would take an evening walk around the neighborhood, the late actor Jon Polito was usually out in his yard talking to friends he had over. He would always raise a hand when he saw me and say, “Hi fella!”
With people you know, greetings offer a kind of window into their mood. A cheerful greeting and you know you can expect a cheerful mood. If I get an “I’m still tired!” from the Littlest Miss, I have a pretty good idea what kind of morning it is going to be.
I really am envious of the people who can, day in and day out, offer a hearty “Good morning!” Alas, all I am capable of doing today is offering you my usual: ‘Mornin’!
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