A key part of French culture, certainly in small towns, is to greet everyone you encounter while walking or jogging with a hearty bonjour!

That is, “Good day!”

At first, it struck me as a sort of empty gesture, a cultural tic, probably conveying “we both know we don’t really mean it but it’s the social standard here.”

After a year in France, I have come around on “bonjour”!

It is a fine way to acknowledge the existence of someone passing by, and a smile and a “howdy do!” pretty much never leaves anyone annoyed or bothered.

In small-town France, to not reply to a “bonjour” is considered rude. To not reply repeatedly is to invite exclusion from civil society. Even surly teens in French small towns respond to “bonjour” with a “good day” of their own.

So, during a visit to southern California, I decided to do a bit of “bonjouring” with the locals, while out on a morning walk. Using a peppy “good morning!” instead.

And how did it go?

First, it is not a great burden.

In many parts of southern California, especially in suburban housing tracts, a walker or jogger is not likely to encounter many people at whom they can toss a “good morning”.

Most everyone is in a car, or already at work, with kids already at school.

Thus, the range of encounters — the distance from greeter to greeted — expands a bit. It’s more like 20-yards-and-in, as opposed to France, where the little villages have few public areas that are 20 yards across.

Also, I should note that on two days that I tried out “good mornings!” the sun was out and the sky was clear and the hills in the Inland Empire were green from rain. They were fine days, indeed. The air was cool, but it literally was a good morning.

My first greeting was directed at a landscaper, who was speaking to a coworker across a street. He actually seemed pleased when I hit him with a “good morning!”

He came right back with an enthusiastic version of his own, even though his mother tongue might have been Spanish. One-for-one! Turning French already!

A bit further down the road, a compact man, middle-aged, on a bike, head mostly down as he pedaled, briefly made eye contact with me, at which point I chirped “good morning!” … and he seemed a bit discombobulated. Almost wary. Like, what did I want from him? Was I carrying religious tracts?

He managed a subdued “good morning” back at me, then put his head down again … but I counted that as another success.

I walked past a woman walking a dog, and she also seemed a bit suspicious of my motives. (It perhaps didn’t help that I was wearing a bright orange sweatshirt, which made me look vaguely clown-like.) Though she also replied.

I ended the day with a good morning to two adult women who were talking as they walked. I try to wait for a break in conversation before I blast a “good morning” at them, but I may have talked over one of them, and they gave me a sort of “what’s your deal?” look and resumed speaking to each other.

Not a problem. Just a timing issue.

I tried it again the next morning, and it was a winning streak. Another dog walker. A female jogger toiling up a hill. A kid carrying a trumpet case. A guy about my own age, who hit me with a simultaneous “good morning” — which showed he already is on the bandwagon.

And the finale, two male senior citizens, a bit creaky in the joints (or so it seemed), who not only responded immediately, but one of them gave me a sort of salute as he completed, “Good morning, sir!”

(Note to self: When addressing people likely to be older than myself, include “sir” or “ma’am” … just as I would in France, where I try to remember to include “bonjour monsieur” for older men and “bonjour madame” for older women.)

I prefer to think I didn’t creep out anyone, and maybe even brightened the morning for a person or two whose existence as a fellow walker/rider was acknowledged while taking their morning constitutional.

The French may be on to something.