One of the many delights of dining in Paris is the low murmur of civilized voices. Parisians keep their conversation to a soft murmur when dining. Very unlike Americans. HG’s compatriots (not all, but very many) are loud in restaurants. Uncivilized. Insensitive to the sensibilities of other diners. Women offend as much as men (SJ has pointed out that in New York City there seems to be a trend of young women simply screaming whenever they see a friend and that screeching carries over to the dinner conversation). Here’s a snarky New Mexico/Colorado comment: Texas women are the loudest (they are also the blondest). HG used to look down on Mother’s Day as a commercialized travesty, not an homage to the glory of motherhood. However, HG has mellowed with the years and now makes sure that the world’s best Mom (and wife) is duly honored on this day with a card, gift and festive dining. BSK deserves it (and more). So, this Mom Day HG took BSK for brunch at the pleasant Restaurant Martin in Santa Fe. Lovely, simple room and deft service. HG/BSK had spicy Virgin Marys. Followed this with a spectacular duck confit hash topped with a perfect fried egg and a creative green salad. Finished with shared house made fig, peach and blueberry sorbet. This perfect brunch was marred by the woman (not a Texan) seated at a nearby table. A loud and grating voice. And, she wouldn’t stop talking and repeating the phrase “playing in the sandbox.” HG didn’t want to make a scene (uncharacteristic for HG) so HG didn’t ask Madame Loudmouth to lower her voice. Restaurants have signs forbidding cell phones (and some forbid perfume). How about:: “In consideration of others, keep your voices down” ?
I love women, but part of “liberation” (i.e., acceptance as equals) is that women are sufficiently free to be as loud in public as Bubba is. Maybe we’ll have some regression toward the mean. As for Dallasites? There’s no cure.