Dr. Carolyn Lee reflects on a different cliché each week. Recently, in her blog “I Just Don’t Get It,” she offers selections from her very long list of things she cannot seem to comprehend. This week Carolyn explores the cliché, the more the merrier.  

Learn more about Dr. Carolyn Lee on her biography page or investigate 29 more clichés in her latest book, Keep Your Eye on the Ball And Other Clichès to Live By. 

The More the Merrier 

“The more the merrier?” I suppose on some occasions that might be true, but I tend to come down on the side of “less is more”. Ever hear of “ochlophobia”? That is an abnormal or irrational fear or hatred of crowds. My particular case isn’t so serious that I can no longer go to the theater or attend an Up with People reunion. But, alas, I think a Taylor Swift concert or a political rally would be out of the question. It isn’t that I fear crowds; it is just that they make me profoundly uncomfortable.  

If I approach a restaurant and see that it is jammed with diners, and there is a long line of patrons winding out through the door and down the sidewalk, I make a U-turn and go in search of a less popular spot. Or I head for home and have a bowl of Wheat-Chex for dinner. Whereas a lot of people attend church only on Christmas and Easter, I tend to avoid church on those occasions, simply because the parking lot and the sanctuary are full to capacity. I’m happy that the restaurant is doing good business and the church still attracts a capacity crowd; I just don’t want to be part of the mob.  

I sometimes watch the New Year’s Eve festivities on television and marvel at the high-angle shots of people gathered in Times Square for the dropping of the ball. They seem to be having such a good time. Never mind that they’re freezing cold and jammed up against thousands of other people who are freezing cold and having a good time. I watch these goings-on from the comfort of my living room, cup of tea in hand, fire in the fireplace, feeling happy and grateful that I am not in Times Square. 

I recently read an article about the ways in which over-tourism has spoiled popular travel destinations. It featured photographs that made me gasp in horror. There was a picture of Rome’s Fountains of Trevi. Or, at least, I think it was the Fountains of Trevi; I couldn’t really see them very well because there were hordes of tourists literally climbing all over the site. I remembered standing there myself, years ago, throwing my three coins in the fountain in the company of a reasonable number of people. I also recall sitting on the Spanish Steps, enjoying a gelato on the very spot where Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck enjoyed gelato in Roman Holiday. As of 2019, visitors to Rome can no longer sit on the Spanish Steps, and eating on the steps is banned. Violators can receive a fine as high as $500. Why? Because too many people have sat on the steps eating gelato, and this ancient site must be protected. The no-sitting-or-eating rule was implemented to “guarantee decorum, security, and legality, to avoid actions that are ‘not compatible with the historical and artistic decorum’ of the city.”    

Another photograph in that article showed hundreds of tourists at the Louvre, straining to get close to the Mona Lisa, mobile phones and cameras held high above their heads. The Louvre, in an attempt to “improve visiting conditions” has limited the number of people who can visit the museum, to 30,000 per day. Nearly eight million people visited the Louvre in 2022. Do I want to visit this famed cultural institution in the company of 30,000 people? No, I do not. 

I think almost any sane person would prefer to see these sites under less crowded conditions. But, apparently, there are other situations where people actually seek out the crowd experience. Perhaps the most horrifying of them all—for someone like me—is the mosh pit. I have a young friend who described to me the exhilaration he felt as he was punched, slammed and kicked by other participants in this weird ritual. Seeking to better understand the mosh pit phenomenon, I looked for explanations online. I found this: “As fans thrash, scream, and sweat together, they become part of a collective force, experiencing catharsis, empowerment, and a powerful connection with the music, the band, and each other. The mosh pit stands as a testament to the profound and deeply human experience that metal music can evoke in those willing to embrace its frenetic heart.” 

I’m all for life-affirming, enriching experiences, but I don’t see the mosh pit as my way of achieving catharsis and empowerment. No, I will not seek self-fulfillment in the company of hundreds of people. The tourist experiences I cherish these days are the ones that involve picnics in the Scottish Highlands or driving the road less traveled to the Lake Isle of Innisfree. What’s fun for me is having three friends over for tea and scones, soft music playing in the background. A “social occasion” might mean a game of Rummikub with my sister and brother-in-law. Occasionally, there is a day when I don’t see another living soul, and that’s okay with me. There is something to be said for solitude. Would I be “merrier” at this moment if I were surrounded by “more”? Do I secretly wish I had tickets to a Taylor Swift concert? Do I have to answer that? 

Want to Read More? 

Check out Dr. Carolyn Lee’s blogs on her website, she features a new cliché each week or you can order her new book, Keep Your Eye on the Ball And Other Clichès to Live By. Want to know more about the woman behind the words? Read more about Carolyn here. We hope you enjoyed this article learning more about the cliché, the more the merrier.