Screaming Me Me's

Who among us has not had the unnerving experience of settling into a favoritebooth at a cozy bistro, only to have that delicate arugula appetizer obliteratedby the piercing cries of unrestrained children?

Surely the parents will calm them down, you think, grabbing that glass ofchardonnay for moral support. Yet the whoops and hollers continue. Theyescalate. Soon the yelling is joined by the thunder of tiny feet stampedingaround the dining table like runaway rats in a maze. Finally, unable to stand itany longer, you turn in the direction of the commotion, scanning the table for alook of concern or admonition on the part of the accompanying adult, only tofind -- nothing. The parents sit calmly by, chattering mindlessly, completelyoblivious to the fact that patrons at nearby tables are ready to throttle thechildren and throw their bones onto the kitchen's rotisserie.

No parental voice is raised in caution. No whispered reprisal is offered forlittle Tommy's sober consideration. In fact, the word "No!" fails tosurface at all, although we watch in horror as Brittany, Jason and Megan beginbanging their silverware on the table. How adorable, coos mindless Mom. They canhit the wine glasses in unison -- isn't that clever?

How can these people inflict their offspring on the other people in the room,other people who are paying good money, and spending precious time in quest of asoothing atmosphere and an enjoyable dinner experience? Restaurants are publicplaces, not exercise yards for feral youngsters.

Small children allowed to run loose in the aisles, to scream, fuss and throwfood, all without a word from adults, are unlovable monsters of the future. Theyand their adult companions should be asked to leave.

A few things are clearly at work here, social forces conspiring to createauditory mayhem in a variety of public places -- restaurants, movie theaters,libraries, airplanes, churches -- places we share with other like-mindedcitizens in search of sanctuary, food, entertainment and mobility. These fellowcitizens have paid for these privileges and are entitled to a certain amount offair exchange for keeping their end of the social contract.

One suspects that parents who flagrantly abuse restaurants as child-careyards are the same people who talk out loud in darkened movie theaters. Havinggrown accustomed to chattering during home video watching, they let themselvesgrow sloppy and "forget" that others would prefer to listen to JuliaRoberts instead of them.

A Modest Proposal

Check out John Stuart Mills' On Liberty for the clearest statement of thearrangement. We're free to exercise our liberty up to the point where ouractions infringe on someone else's freedom. In other words, we're all in thistogether. By going into a public place to dine, or to purchase coffee and readthe newspaper, we each agree to abide by tacit rules of politeness and mutualrespect. I don't sit at a table that is obviously already occupied by someoneelse's coffee and books. That's a violation of someone's prior right to thisterritory.

Let's apply this pragmatic theory to noise conduct. When you enter a publiczone, a space you share with others who similarly expect to be entering a publiczone geared to a common purpose, e.g., dining, movie going, football-watching,you have to realize that you're one of many people engaged in the activity. The747 does not exist just to transport you and your brood. There are 235 otherpeople who also paid money to take the trip. It's not your private party. Andnot everyone is equally charmed by Jonah's ability to recite the alphabet at thetop of his lungs while running up and down the aisle.

Here's the deal. Many of the people sitting at tables around you, strugglingnot to throw down their forks and give you a piece of their minds, are diningout as a break from dinner with the little rugrats. Unlike you, they actuallyshelled out cash money and hired a babysitter so as not to inflict theirrambunctious toddlers on total strangers.

You made the choice to have children. That choice requires certainsacrifices. You might actually have to forgo that morning latte if it means youand your girlfriends fill one quarter of the coffeehouse with huge strollersfilled with screaming babies. The guy trying to read The New York Times doesn'tbring his howling dog with him. Why should you bring teething Chad?

You can't have it all. You can't pretend that your unmannered children don'tactually belong to anyone in particular. This is no longer a postmodern world.There is an author of those tiny texts. Take some responsibility for thoseemerging humans you chose to create. Stop holding us all hostage -- all we askfor is an enjoyable meal.

Sensory Bombardment

But clearly, you're thinking, anyone who finds herself outraged at thebehavior of maturity-challenged youngsters must be a throwback to another era.This is the 21st century, where the self-esteem of humans-in-training must benurtured to the exclusion of good manners, ambience, even -- from where I sit --common sense. If we attempt to shush little Brittany, think what we'll be doingto her nascent self-esteem. She might begin to have doubts about her own abilityto dominate the social arena. She might find her emotional expression stifled,perhaps irreparably damaged by psychic scarring. Consider the identity issuesshe'll have when she grows up.

So why is this a problem? Because we don't taste solely with our taste buds.Whenever we want to engage in some pleasantly sensual experience -- and that'ssurely what enjoying a meal is about -- it's difficult to appreciate the mainexperience when suffering from sensory bombardment. Too much stimulation --people incessantly cruising the aisles or loud children acting out nearby -- andyou're distracted from what you're trying to enjoy.

Every restaurateur knows that the point of the dining experience is to appealto all our appetites. That's why they bother to create an attractive setting,bring food to the table fragrant and hot, provide soft, pleasing music and vetoTV blaring baseball scores in the background. Not only is it rude in the extremeto inflict your gene-carriers on the public in these pleasant settings, itborders on criminal negligence. Your screaming child is destroying the value ofsomeone else's dinner. Instead of that fresh-baked pastry they ordered, yourfellow diner is actually having your child's decibel overload stuffed down hiseyes, ears, nose and throat.

If your children aren't ready for prime time, keep them at home until theyare.