First Class and No Class

She has always been, for as long as I have known her, a classy kind of person. Her mother and older sister would scornfully comment that she was on her "high horse." This went on through childhood and even when she was an adult. One day she decided to put an end to it. When the high horse comment came up again, she looked at the two and quietly, calmly said, "Yes. I am on my high horse. And he has a name. It is Class." And that was that. Neither one of them ever used that phrase again.

For several years, I was a guest at the annual Christmas party of a business associate. Her home was beautifully decorated. She was talented in the kitchen, so the food was always fabulous. She never appeared exhausted or flustered, but always enjoyed herself. Her parties were spectacular, but you never got the impression she was trying to knock anyone's socks off. She made it all seem so natural. All of her guests were comfortable because the hostess was comfortable.

There was another woman who also attended these parties. I don't know what horse this gal rode in on, but its name was definitely not Class. She made catty comments and dished the dirt. She, the hostess and myself were talking about our respective plans for the holidays. The hostess said her son was out of state visiting his father over Christmas break. The other woman whose horse was not named Class snorted and said, "Oh, don't you just love it when they try to play daddy?" The hostess smiled slightly and said, "My SON'S FATHER is a very good man." She paused, then artfully changed the subject. Her facial expression, her emphasis on the two operative words, her inflection, the way she paused for effect, were all perfect. She put this woman in her place without putting her down.

There are two kinds of class. First class and no class.

Susan