9 phrases boomers still use because it once signaled good manners

Last week at the grocery store, I heard it again: "Yes, ma'am, I'll get those bags for you."

The teenage cashier looked puzzled as the older gentleman insisted on helping me to my car. "Sir, that's really not necessary," the young man said, but the customer was already reaching for my groceries. "It's how I was raised," he explained with a shrug.

That small exchange got me thinking about all the phrases we boomers grew up with, the ones that rolled off our tongues as naturally as breathing because they were the markers of being well-raised.

We learned them at our mothers' knees, practiced them until they became second nature, and now find ourselves using them in a world that sometimes doesn't quite know what to make of them.

These phrases weren't just words to us. They were a social contract, a way of showing respect and acknowledging others' humanity.

My father, who spent his days delivering mail and knew everyone in town by name, would tip his hat and say some of these very phrases dozens of times each day. It was his way of weaving community together, one polite exchange at a time.

1. "Yes, ma'am" and "Yes, sir"

Remember when every adult was automatically "ma'am" or "sir"? It didn't matter if they were the bank teller, your friend's parent, or the person ahead of you in line at the pharmacy. These titles were our way of showing respect for anyone older than us, and later, for anyone we were serving or helping.

I still catch myself using these terms, especially when I'm speaking with service workers or anyone helping me out. The other day, a young barista seemed genuinely surprised when I said, "Thank you, ma'am" after she handed me my coffee. "Nobody calls me ma'am," she laughed.

But for me, it's automatic, like breathing. It's not about age anymore; it's about acknowledging someone's dignity in their work.

2. "May I?" instead of "Can I?"

Oh, how my mother would correct us on this one! "Can I have a cookie?" would invariably be met with, "I don't know, can you?" until we learned to ask, "May I have a cookie?" It was about more than grammar; it was about understanding the difference between ability and permission, between demanding and requesting.

I spent years drilling this into my high school students, watching their eyes roll as I explained yet again why "may" mattered.

Now I hear myself asking, "May I speak with the manager?" while others say, "I need to talk to your manager." The softness of that request, the acknowledgment that I'm asking for someone's time rather than demanding it, still feels important to me.

3. "Pardon me" or "I beg your pardon"

These days, "What?" or "Huh?" seem to have replaced these gentler ways of asking someone to repeat themselves. But there was something civilized about saying "Pardon me?" when you couldn't hear someone, or "I beg your pardon" when you bumped into them or disagreed with something they'd said.

The phrase carried weight. It acknowledged that you were asking for something: their patience, their repetition, their understanding. It made the interaction less about your needs and more about mutual respect.

4. "Please allow me"

Whether it was opening a door, carrying packages, or offering a seat, "Please allow me" was how we signaled our intention to help. It wasn't presumptuous; it asked permission while offering assistance.

My grandmother, who survived the Depression with grace I'm still trying to understand, would say this phrase with such dignity.

Even when she had almost nothing, she could offer her help, and the phrase gave both the giver and receiver their dignity. It's a far cry from today's quick "Here, let me" or just jumping in without asking.

5. "How do you do?"

Not "How are you?" which invites an actual response about someone's wellbeing, but "How do you do?" which was really just a formal greeting. It was what you said when being introduced to someone new, and the proper response was simply to echo it back: "How do you do?"

I remember teaching school dances in the early days of my career, watching teenagers fumble through introductions.

We'd practice this phrase, and while they found it antiquated even then, there was something about the formality that made them stand a little straighter, take the introduction a little more seriously.

6. "With your permission"

Before interrupting, before disagreeing, before taking action that might affect others, we'd say, "With your permission." It acknowledged that we were about to impose, however slightly, on someone else's space or conversation.

7. "At your convenience"

Everything today seems urgent, doesn't it? Every email marked "high priority," every request needing immediate attention. But we used to say "at your convenience" when asking for something, acknowledging that the other person had a life, priorities, and timeline of their own.

I still use this phrase in emails, though I wonder sometimes if it makes me seem less urgent than others, less important. But there's something liberating about acknowledging that not everything is an emergency, that respect for others' time is still a form of good manners.

8. "I'm much obliged"

Stronger than "thank you," this phrase acknowledged that someone had gone out of their way for you, that you owed them something in return, even if just gratitude.

My mother, who spent her evenings at her sewing machine creating practical beauty from scraps, would use this phrase when neighbors brought her fabric remnants. It acknowledged the gift while maintaining her dignity.

9. "If you would be so kind"

This phrase turned every request into an opportunity for someone to show kindness. "If you would be so kind as to pass the salt" sounds excessive now, but it reframed everyday interactions as chances for small generosities.

Final thoughts

Do these phrases matter anymore? Sometimes I wonder, especially when I see the puzzled looks they occasionally generate. But then I think about what they represent: a time when we took an extra second to acknowledge each other's humanity, when we understood that manners were really about making others feel seen and valued.

The world moves faster now, communication is briefer, and maybe that's neither good nor bad, just different.

But I'll keep using these phrases, not because I'm stuck in the past, but because they remind me to slow down, to see the person in front of me, to offer respect even in the smallest interactions. They're my small rebellion against a world that sometimes feels too rushed for courtesy, too busy for kindness.