From the daily life of Etiquetteer, a lesson on what to do when taken unawares — but Etiquetteer yields the floor to That Mr. Dimmick Who Thinks He Knows So Much:
During the pandemic a nearby cemetery became my happy place — because there was almost no one else there. But one of the risks of frequent cemetery visits is the sudden appearance of a funeral cortège. After four years I’ve learned that when pre-recorded hymn tunes start pealing from the tower, a new Permanent Resident is entering by the front gates, followed by a long cortège of cars. Just what are you supposed to do?!
Well, you are really supposed to stop and stand with your hat off until the entire procession passes you. This time I was not on the same avenue as the procession, though it was visible to me. I felt I could continue on my way, though I had to slow my pace until all the cars passed my intersection. On one occasion last year I ducked hastily through some shrubbery to another avenue, which was Not Really Perfectly Proper At All. But there have been other times when leaving the cemetery I have encountered arriving funeral processions, and then there’s no escape. The only course was to stop and remove my hat until the entire cortège has passed. Yes, that might be a while, but inconvenience means nothing. Death itself is inconvenient. Death waits for no one*, so respect must be shown. Be patient.
Now when I say remove your hat, I mean men remove secular headgear (religious and military headgear have their own rules), and people of all gender expressions remove baseball caps. There are etiquette writers in this century ready to make hat removal entirely gender neutral, but I am not ready to tell ladies that some large-brimmed hat needs to come off every time they walk into a building . . . or every time a hearse passes by.
The only other incident I’ll mention happened a couple weeks ago on a rainy afternoon under my rainbow umbrella** when I unexpectedly walked by an interment. Thankfully there was enough distance between us, but I felt uncomfortably like Ruth Gordon in Harold and Maude (see above). But in such bad weather it would have been folly to furl it while continuing on my way. No, I won’t be getting a new black umbrella, either.
At least today I was soberly garbed.
*Etiquetteer has been saying “Death waits for no man” over 30 years, but the only attribution I can find for it is a writer named Markus Zusak, from his novel The Book Thief, which was published in this century. Further information about this quote is more than welcome.
**Middle-aged man + rainbow umbrella = I think we know.