The Underrated Virtue of Decency

My Dad died this October 2nd.

When they asked me to do the eulogy…well, I just couldn’t. (My brother did a fine job).

Only after the funeral did I realize what I might have said.

Growing up in the 1930s, like many Catholics, my Dad was a member of The Legion of Decency (1933-1980), an organization where members took a pledge to avoid “vile and unwholesome moving pictures.” (And, of course, they gave a “C” for “Condemned” rating to all the best movies: from Some Like it Hot, to 8 1/2, and Psycho, or even The Valley of the Dolls and From Russia with Love.)

Many of my hipster friends never quite believed me that The Legion of Decency actually existed until they googled it.  Thus, when my parents came to see an Obie-winning Off-Broadway NYC show I produced, one of them playfully questioned my father’s attendance at this slightly provocative production. (A flash of skin, adult language, mature sexual themes).

My father, having driven in for the day from Connecticut simply shrugged and replied, “It’s outside my jurisdiction.”

I’m pretty sure that anecdote would have gotten a laugh from the congregation.

From there I would have expanded beyond the absurdity of The Legion of Decency to the actual underrated virtue of Decency.

My favorite dictionary definition of “decency” is:

“Polite, moral, and honest behavior and attitudes that show respect for other people.”

One of my many realizations during the funeral was that my dad did such a good job of setting an almost invisible high standard of decency that I take it for granted that everyone shares this same sense of baseline good behavior.

Unfortunately, Life has taught me that everyone does not.

Whether it’s something as simple as punctuality or as complicated as ethical behavior in a difficult situation, I realize most people have a much lower bar regarding what is honorable.

It’s not the first time I’ve thought about this.

In fact, in my novel DOWNWARD DOG there’s a whole monologue from the protagonist about his father being a marine that I’d almost forgotten about until my dad’s military funeral.

Trust  me, I thought I would be the last person in the world affected by all that ceremony but let me tell you a) the marine’s have incredible style and intensity and b) it’s devastating when they drop to one knee in front of your mother and thank you for your father’s service to his country.

From movies and TV, I’d known the Corp’s motto was Semper Fidelis––always faithful––but after the services I googled more about their code of Honor, Courage and Commitment. (There’s something almost elegant about the homonyms of Corps Values and Core Values.)

My father and I had a difficult relationship and yet since his passing I’m so much more appreciative of his contributions to my character.

I’m glad that if I’ve inherited nothing else from him, I may have inherited a few virtues.

Virtues like Decency, that are often underrated.

When consistently employed, decency does seem almost invisible, a given, when in fact, it is not. It’s a startlingly rare quality.

And––even though I am tempted to organize a film festival of the Legion of Decency’s many banned films––for his Decency, I am indeed grateful.