Forget the high prices of gas. Forget the increase in student fees. Forget that the voting on “American Idol” is all wrong. There is a much bigger problem facing this country. Not since Roseanne Barr grabbed herself and spit while while singing the National Anthem has there been such a blight on this once proud landscape.

And this problem is growing. It has gone from a few small incidents to being almost universal. You can’t drive down the street without running into it.

The problem is a lack of common courtesy. There was a time when most people where civil to each other. Now it is all men and women for themselves. Who cares if the light has been red for five minutes? Go on through. Lines at the checkout counters are only suggestions. Go ahead and get in front of the crowd.

There is no place on this great green planet where there is so little lack of common courtesy than at the grocery store.

Let’s say, just for the sake of argument, the aisles in a grocery store are designed for two shopping carts to pass. Sure the one-ton box of Frosty Fruitful Flake-Os often stick out a few feet. And the wheels of the carts create a constant pull to the left. But just do me the courtesy of agreeing two carts can pass.

The space is limited. That’s why it is always frustrating to see a shopper who has decided to hang off the side of the cart like a Titanic survivor. They stroll along beside the cart as if they are with a suitor on Lover’s Lane. Heaven help you if you say “excuse me” to pass. They hear it as another two-word phrase that ends in “you.”

Then there are the people who can find the geometric center of the aisle. That’s where they leave the cart while they are six aisles away trying to decide which chicken breast to buy. Do you park your car in the middle of the road? You are not Britney Spears. Be courteous and pull over to the curb.

How about the man or woman who is the surrogate shopper. They are on the cell phone, like Paris Hilton on the morning after, to the person who should really be at the store. They ignore you as they shout “Hey honey! One can of beans is 50 cents. Then they have a sale where you can get two for a dollar. Which should I get?” Might I suggest you buy the largest can of beans you can and drop it on your head.

Granted it is tough to be a working mom. But there must be someone who can watch your 37 kids while you push your seven shopping carts through the store. The kids aren’t there to help. They have found one of those giant rubber balls that always fall out of the wire rack at the front of the store. David Beckham has showed up because the area near the checkout stations has become a a soccer field.

And finally, at least try to count the items in your cart. Don’t pretend to be shocked when someone notices you have enough groceries to feed the Osmond family and are in the 10 items of less line. The guy with three items had to go to another line where he must wait while someone with six carts checks out because they weren’t courteous enough to let the guy go ahead of them.

Other problems can wait. Let’s all just try to be a little more courteous. I promise to pull over while I try to decide between the beans for 50 cents a can or the two-for-a-dollar deal.