These are a few of my favorite things

Etiquette + Old Books (only not really) + Digitization =

this blog post, about I'm not quite sure what, but which circles around all of the above

Soda, Soda, All Around....

Miss Manners faces a crusader of carbonation:

Dear Miss Manners: I have been to occasions that do not have my favorite nonalcoholic drink ... DIET DECAF COLA!!!!!!

I suggest you tell the host to let everyone know with/in the invitations what nonalcoholic drinks will be available. The host should suggest if anyone has a particular type nonalcoholic beverage not offered to please feel free to bring their own!!!!!!!!!!!! After finding out the HARD WAY, I started taking my own nonalcoholic drinks years ago ......... !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[take a moment for a snarfle....]

Gentle Reader: How did you get so hepped up without alcohol or caffeine?

Miss Manners is worried about you. Please take a deep breath and sit down while she explains the concept of hospitality.

There is a difference between a restaurant, which sells you food that you specifically order, and a private party, where the host offers you refreshments that he provides.

The restaurant knows exactly what you want because you do the ordering. Hosts, in contrast, are friends who wish to see you for the sake of your company. They should also want to please you by offering refreshment but must guess what would be pleasing to various guests.

Providing nonalcoholic drinks is thus standard. Providing each guest with the exact brand and mixture he or she prefers is difficult and burdensome, part of the finicky-guest syndrome that has discouraged reasonable people from entertaining.

Neither restaurants nor people’s homes should be treated like picnic grounds where you bring your own goodies. If you don’t like what is available at a restaurant, you need not do business there. If you are not willing, for the sake of politeness and sociability, to content yourself with water but must always have your favorite drink, you need not attend parties where it is not served.

Sometimes I roll my eyes just leeetle at Miss Manners because she's so very insistent on traditional modes of entertaining. In particular, she advocates 100%-potluck-free parties and dinners, where the host or hostess makes all the arrangements the way she wants and the guests simply come and enjoy. In this situation, the rule of social reciprocation is paramount: the host bears the entire burden and joy of the party this time, so it is up to her guests to take a turn next time.

It's like taking turns picking up the check, instead of splitting the check. Taking turns is neater, and seems more gracious somehow--and ends the evening without all that frustrating math. But it only works if the parties involved are vigilant about reciprocation.

Miss Manners tends to frown upon the potluck, where everyone contributes equally to the spread, except in the case of church basement suppers. At the very least, she insists, the person who plans and arranges the location for the potluck cannot properly be called a "host."

The model of entertainment that I'm most familiar with is somewhere between these two, the "what can I bring?" model. I grew up in a world where you don't go to a party without an appetizer, salad, or dessert--but that the host plans and provides the main course, side dishes, drinks, decorations, etc. I don't think there's anything wrong with this--in fact, I think most of the people I know are comfortable and happy with this model--but I think it does change the clear rules of hosting, reciprocation, hospitality, and good-guest-ness.

For example, Miss Manners is terribly, horribly opposed to the idea of a cash bar at a wedding or similar grand occasion (or any occasion, for that matter). She abhors the idea of the host asking the guest to pay for his own drink.

Hosts should serve what they can afford to serve--be it a full bar, beer and wine, or a big old bowl of punch--and guests should drink it graciously.

However, I think this increasing sense of guest-ownership in the party that gives rise to things like the cash bar. In a world where the host is truly the one and only host, there'd be no question of who pays for the drinks. But we've entered a phase where guests are actually willing--even prefer--to pay if it means they have a stake and a say in what they get back. Hosts know they can't afford it, but they also suspect that guests would rather have the choice to buy it for themselves, than to go entirely without.

This diet-caffeine-free-cola fanatic is just an example of the kind of guest that, as Miss Manners suggests, discourages reasonable people from entertaining. If someone complained that their host provided, I don't know, Smirnoff instead of Grey Goose, it would seem obvious that they were snooty and ungracious. But even though the financial impact of requesting d-c-f cola is obviously not quite the same, the request says the same thing: "what you've chosen to provide is not good enough for ME."

I'm not a stickler for formal etiquette by any means, but it does serve up social interaction down as lovely, bite-sized, hors d'oeuvres, while "our" way seems more like sharing a giant order of supreme nachos with friends--it's tasty and awesome, but can get messy.

Can't-Win Wedding

Here be yet another example of how weddings transform fun ideas into scarring, never-to-be-forgotten family rifts:

Dear Miss Manners: My husband and I attended a wedding with a 1920s theme, where the guests were encouraged to dress in period costume if they felt so moved.

Many of the gentlemen who arrived in the suggested costume wore hats, to better convey the theme, and we all by unspoken accord wore them the entire evening (perhaps, subconsciously, in imitation of the groom, who did the same).

Later, it developed that the bride’s grandmothers and aunts had been much dismayed by all the gentlemen wearing hats indoors. Obviously, there’s nothing to be done about that now, but for the future what’s correct?

Gentle Reader: Gentlemen who lived during the ’20s were normally great wearers of hats, so they were sure about what to do. If you really want to be in character, you would therefore remove the hat indoors.

Arrrrrrrrrrgh.....of course Miss Manners and the grandmas are technically correct that hats shouldn't be worn indoors, and of course gentlemen of the day would have known this and never worn their hats indoors. But their hats weren't part of a carefully contrived costume, and these were. And if the whole wedding was indoors, they never would have gotten to wear their hats at all.

I think following the groom's example was the right thing to do in this case (the real point of etiquette, after all, is to prevent embarrassment and confusion among as many people as possible). Had he removed his hat, others should have as well--and they most likely would have.

Assuming the guys had the good sense not to wear their hats in the church, I think allowing your memory of your granddaughter's wedding to be overshadowed by your memory of uncouth young men in fedoras is a shame. Let it go.

That's not really my area....but.....

Many advice columnists attempt to carve out a niche for themselves (saving money, love, raising children, race relations...even Carolyn used to cater to the 30-and-under set), but the most famous boutique advice columnist is, no doubt, Miss Manners. She's also the only one whose readers seem to understand and obey her emphasis on polite society rather than internal anguish and family dilemmas (or maybe she just has highly attentive editors). Nevertheless, even she can't escape the occasional query about (young) (forbidden) love:

Dear Miss Manners: I love science. The year before I made sure that those were the only kinds of classes that I was going to get and I did get my classes, only to end up falling for the teacher teaching one of my classes, Biology 2.

He is six years older than me, and he seems to be the ideal man for any girl. I fall in deeper as the days go by, but I understand that there can be nothing between us, that it is impossible because he and I have our separate lives and goals, we are going in opposite directions. I know that what I feel is fake, I know that it’s a crush, but I doubt it because crushes don’t last a whole year, and when I am with him I’m really happy.

Is it really OK for me to feel this way about my teacher? I would like to have your opinion.

Gentle Reader: This letter is one that Miss Manners should not consider. From the etiquette point of view, how you feel is your business as long as you behave yourself.

But heck, lovelorn advisers often presume to dispense etiquette advice. No doubt Miss Manners’ advice to the lovelorn will be of the same quality.

You cannot, of course, embarrass your teacher—and probably endanger his job—by flirting with him. But as you love science, it would seem reasonable of you to become a biologist. If you work really hard at it and win the Nobel Prize and return to campus to tell this teacher that you owe it all to him, Miss Manners promises that he will find you irresistible. Presuming that by that time, he has not acquired a wife and six children.

(snarfle). Thanks Miss Manners!

P.S. FWIW, I can't help but think this this crush started long before this semester's Bio 2 course...the letter's tone and vocabulary (teacher vs. professor) make me think it was written by a high schooler. And in what high school can you take ONLY science classes? That's certainly not typical, and while it perhaps can be finagled, such a feat would take the blind persistence of unrequited love, not just a fondness for the subject (which would, no doubt, be tempered by an understanding that higher level math education is also necessary in this field). I'm not sure the writer of this letter is being entirely honest about his/her predicament. Then again, when it comes to sticky predicaments, who is?

Can't have your hot dog and eat it too....

Although I get that this guest is upset about not getting to eat (I would be hungry and quite possibly cranky as well), I can't quite figure out how he or she has rationalized it so the hosts are at fault:

DEAR ABBY: I was recently invited to a friend's home for dinner. When I arrived just a few minutes past the time I was told the meal would be served, I found that everyone had finished eating. I was asked if I'd like something to eat and offered a plate, but refused because I would have felt uncomfortable eating alone while everyone else stood around visiting. I stayed about an hour and left.

[There are two more paragraphs here, but I've omitted them--they're about how the guest brought it up with the hosts the next day and much less interesting, except for a key quote: "They felt that because everyone else had arrived earlier in the day and the food was ready, that it was OK. They also said I shouldn't have gotten so upset about it."]

-- HURT IN WASHINGTON

In her response, Abby makes a distinction between two kinds of parties:

If the invitation read, "Come between 3 p.m. and 6 p.m." and you were the last to arrive "a few minutes past the time the meal was to be served," then I can understand why the other guests started without you. However, if you were told that dinner was scheduled for 6 o'clock and when you arrived you were offered their leftovers, then your feelings are understandable.

What stands out to me is that this person doesn't seem to know which kind of party it is (an open house, or a sit-down dinner party)...and in fact didn't behave appropriately for either type of party.

That everyone else arrived earlier "in the day" (not 20 minutes ago) suggests that it was, well, an all-day event. In these types of situations hosts may not often take a careful accounting of their guests because people come and go, and sometimes don't even show--which they may have assumed was the case with this guest. The meal tends to be less formal, and the eating distributed and wandering. If that's the type of event it was, the guest's refusal to eat when offered (almost out of spite it seems) was his/her own fault.

If, on the other hand, it was a formal dinner where everyone was seated at a communal table, yes, it would have been odd for the guest to discover the meal over, done, and cleared when he or she arrived "a few minutes" late. However, it also would have been odd for the guest to expect them to hold the meal for his/her tardy arrival. Would the other guests be sitting around the table, pounding their silverware? Did this guest just want to make an entrance? I haven't been to many formal dinner parties, but if the meal was to be served at 6, I'd probably plan to arrive between 5:30 and 5:45 to greet folks, hang up my coat, and eat a cracker or two before we all sat down.

There are many factors that could impact the rudeness (or not) of all this: how many people were there (10 or 100)? Was it inside or outside (hot dish or hot dogs)? When dinner was served, did the guests all sit at one table, then get up when the meal was finished, or were people carrying their plates around with them, sitting, standing, and mingling (dinner party, or just party)? Had the guest let the hosts know he or she would be arriving later?

Also have to say, if everyone was there all day and only this guest showed up later--not even at the appointed time, but after it--it really comes across as though he or she was just in it for the free meal, which makes me less inclined to be sympathetic.

What do you think? Does it sound like the guest was out of line, or like the hosts played a bait-n-switch and screwed him/her out of dinner?

Isn't it Ironic?

A week or two ago, we met a woman who was enraged at receiving "18 bottles of booze, a clock and a set of towels" for a housewarming party where she had told her guests gifts were not expected. (She was enraged not because gifts really weren't expected, but because she was hoping her guests would spontaneously refurnish her home, and felt she got a low ROI on the $$ she spent on the party. Yes, really.)

Last Friday in Carolyn's live chat, the same question surfaced:

Housewarming parties?: I bought my first house in December. At the time, my coworkers were bugging me for a housewarming party, but I didn't have one then because the house was NOT in order. Now, it's mostly organized and clean, and it's barbecue weather. I'm thinking of having a belated housewarming party in August.

Now, housewarming parties are completely new territory for me, so what's the deal with these things? Is eight months later too late for one? What kind of food/drinks do I serve (I'm still low on funds from buying the house)? I do NOT need gifts--still got a garage full of stuff to sort through from the move--but a couple of coworkers mentioned registering somewhere (I thought that was just for babies and marriages?). Should I, just in case? Augh! Help me, I'm clueless!

Carolyn Hax: Have a party, and don't call it a housewarming. Ta da.

Housewarming parties: LOL, ok, fair enough. :-) But I really am curious about the etiquette for these things, since I expect a lot of my friends (20-somethings) will be having them in the next few years. I'd probably bring a bottle of booze as a present. Good?

Am I right that registering for a housewarming party is tacky? Just curious about that one. I promise not to be rude if anyone I know develops a housewarming registry.

Carolyn Hax: Good, if it's a booze you know they like.

Registries are a convenient evil that solve the very narrow problem of helping guests from afar buy appropriate gifts to acknowledge major milestone events to which they're invited. Extending the definition beyond this narrow one is among many culprits in the commercialization of feelings, and presumably you're not inviting your Aunt Whosie to come from the opposite coast to celebrate your housewarming, so I would say yes, ixnay on the housewarming registry, thanks.

The echoed phrase "bottle of booze" almost makes me think these two are connected--like the chatter read the column or something. Especially because I'm used to the idea of bringing a bottle of wine, but I don't know that I'd call that "booze." I'm less used to people showing up with a fifth of bourbon (or something), but maybe that's what's done for homes (as opposed to dinner parties?).

Advice columnists in general tend to be very skeptical of the registry. Like Carolyn, they often suggest it's only barely tolerable if you're having a large event where many people who don't know you well are expected to present you with gifts. And in general, they follow that up with something about how forcing strangers to give you gifts is in bad taste anyway. However, I think it's fair (and not an excuse) to note that they're also useful for allowing guests to coordinate...eliminating lots of duplicates for events where a similar "type" of gift is common, and also allowing guests to purchase a small part of a larger set (silverware, dishes), or even get a sense of your style and preferences in order to choose something on their own.

That being said, I think the registry HAS gotten way out of control, especially for baby stuff and just plain old parties--little kids' birthdays, etc.--where neither the stranger factor nor the matched set factor apply.

Maybe I'm just not familiar with housewarmings, but it seems strange to me to expect all your friends to give you stuff for your new house. Foolishly spoke the recently showered bride. Old traditions die hard, I guess. So I will rationalize: it seems to me in very poor taste to expect people to do this for you more than once in your lifetime (e.g. a wedding and five years later a housewarming...or a wedding and five years later another wedding).

But on the other hand, if you choose not to marry (or are prevented from marrying by law), shouldn't you also get YOUR big celebration (ala Sex and the City and the shoe registry)? I think so. And in that situation, the milestone of a new homestead (which, to be fair, was probably equated with a wedding in days of yore) seems as good an opportunity as any to celebrate. But it still goes both ways: a big lavish housewarming where the gifts equate to wedding gifts shouldn't be followed by a traditional wedding registry down the road, if that time comes.

Goodness Gracious Gifts pt. II

Last time we met a woman who was very uncomfortable with being treated to meals an accommodations on vacation with a friend and the friend's parents. Today we have someone with the opposite problem: she's asking Amy why she didn't receive the presents she expected.

Dear Amy: My husband and I finally bought a new home after 20 years of marriage. All of the items I'd received from my bridal shower 20 years ago were either worn out or broken.
We put most of our money into purchasing the house and can't afford new things, so we hosted a housewarming party for ourselves.

[Generally a no-no to host your own "shower...." And more to the point...just because the gifts you recieved years ago have worn out doesn't mean you're somehow owed new ones.]
When people called to R.S.V.P. and asked me what I needed, I politely told them that gifts were not expected. [But...she just said that they had the party SPECIFICALLY to get the new things they couldn't afford for themselves?] If pressured, I said that most of our possessions were worn out [Really? Most of their possessions? I mean, yes, 20 years is a long time, but I find it hard to believe there's nary a functional appliance or stain-free towel in the house. And bowls and vases and such don't just disintegrate. They didn't replace things as they broke over the years, but waited for a chance to be given new ones?].
We invited 20 couples to the party. In return, we received 18 bottles of booze, a clock and a set of towels. [In return? In RETURN?]
My husband didn't mind receiving the booze, but the clock and towels were the only things I could use! Now we don't have much to show for the money we spent. [sputter....sputter...sputter. She makes it sound like they bet on a horse and it didn't pay off...]
I don't want to complain, but I don't think liquor is an appropriate housewarming gift. [sputter...sputter...sputter...] I think it's a husband-warming gift, and the wife is left out in the cold! [Um, offensive to both men and women! Men have no use for towels, only "booze"? And women um, aren't? 18 bottles of liquor clearly wasn't what they were expecting, but it's also nothing to sneeze at simply because she's a woman. Drink up!]
What do you think is appropriate? — Worn and Torn

Dear Worn: You threw a party for yourselves that was intended as an opportunity to furnish your new home, but then you refused to give people a clear directive concerning your expectations.
If you wanted to receive specific items, you should have told your prospective guests when they inquired, "We have registered at 'Smith Hardware' store and would love to receive any of the items on our list — or anything else for the kitchen or bathrooms." When you denied that you expected gifts, you weren't being polite, you were being obscure.

fo shizzle.

This woman was basically being really presumptuous, then trying to hide the fact that she was being presumptuous, then mad when her friends took her at her word.

A little bit of give, and a little bit of take....

It seems like the art of generous giving and gracious accepting--and reciprocation--is one that's being quickly lost in favor of careful bookkeeping and Dutch-going. Here's what I mean:

DEAR ABBY: I am a 43-year-old professional woman with a good job. I was recently invited by a friend to join her and her parents on a four-day mini-vacation trip. I accepted with the understanding that I would share food and hotel expenses.

Her father insisted on paying for every meal and excursion, and refused my offers to pay for anything. This made me very uncomfortable, since I was not expecting a free ride. I gave my friend some money and asked her to repay her father after I had left, but I still feel awkward about the whole thing.

Abby, what is the proper etiquette for such situations? -- CAN PAY MY WAY IN TENNESSEE

DEAR CAN PAY: Your friend's father is obviously a man of means, who could afford to treat you and did not feel comfortable allowing you to pay for the meals and hotel expenses. It is possible that he comes from the "men pay for everything" generation. While you may be too young to remember, it's the one that grew into adulthood before the women's rights movement.

Rather than having given your friend money to pass along to her dad, a better solution would have been to send her parents a lovely gift with a letter included, thanking them for their generosity.

Of course this woman didn't EXPECT her expenses to be covered, but if her hosts insisted, it seems to me that the thing to do would be to thank them profusely (but not excessively!), enjoy herself, and afterward send them a letter and gift, as Abby suggests. It would have been ideal if she could have treated for a special meal out or something, but it sounds like her friend's parents would have made this impossible.

I understand why this would have made her uncomfortable, but how much MORE uncomfortable is it to tussle over the check (I think anything more than just two volleys of "no, I insist" counts as a "tussle"), ending every meal in awkward debate between people who don't know each other well, and excessive reflection on the cost, rather than the experience?

I think it's weird that the writer was defensive about the fact that she "can pay [her] way," and that even Abby attributed the host's generosity to, basically, chauvinism. More likely it's less about women not being able to pay than about his being a father treating his daughter and daughter's friend to a trip.

I think it's too bad that someone being magnanimous and generous seems commonly to lead to feelings of guilt, awkwardness, and a desire to mathematically even the playing field as soon as possible--thus, cash surreptitiously stuck into pockets, rather than a letter, gift or invitation to dinner in the coming weeks. Trying to "pay someone back" for an invitation or gift seems almost more offensive than not thanking them at all.

Ok, that's not true. Very little would be more offensive than not thanking them at all. But still.

The exception would be, I guess, if you know the hosts can't afford it, and so their insisting on picking up the tab ruins everyone's fun--I actually was just speaking to a family friend who has this problem with her father.

Of course we should be mindful and thankful when others go out of their way for us. It's a gift and a privilege to be treated or hosted on occasion, and one we should recognize, honor, and reciprocate (however we can). But refusing to accept it--in other words, rejecting the other person's generosity--takes away from the joy of giving all together.

Finally, a Fabulous Guide to Facebook!

Huzzah, it's the Facebook Etiquette Manual we've all been waiting for!

Idle hands...don't belong to kinesthetic learners?

This column is getting a bit old, but since the topic came up a social event (weekly happy hour) recently, I thought I'd post it.

The issue raised by my peers was that of knitting in class. Knitting, as many of you will realize, has made comeback in recent years and more young people than ever are making scarves--and the more ambitious are on to hats, bags, legwarmers, and socks. But is knitting in a public setting--one where you're assumed to be paying attention and even taking notes--blatantly rude? Let's find out....

Dear Miss Manners: At a condo association meeting consisting of about 60 people, there was a head table with six people, facing about six rows of tables, about five feet away. In the front row were two ladies — not sitting next to each other — doing their needlework.
Is it proper to do needlework while at an event such as this? I noticed that the speakers were distracted (and so was I) by their movements. Between reading the directions and rearranging their work, one couldn’t help but turn their way to see what was going on. I say it is rude.

Gentle Reader: But what if they don’t have hand-held devices that enable them to check their e-mail, text message and play games while the committee is droning on?
Not that Miss Manners condones failing to pay attention at meetings, or rather, failing to look as if one is paying attention. She merely wants to make the point that there are worse distractions available. Needlework at least has precedent behind it. For centuries, ladies sat quietly doing needlework while gentlemen conversed around them, and didn’t miss a thing of what was going on.

I agree that in this day and age there are plenty of things you can do that are more distracting that knit in class....I would be lying if I said I hadn't participated in facebook messaging, even live chatting, during class--often with other folks in the same class. At least part of the issue seems to be appearances--if you're facebooking, MAYBE it looks like you're taking notes (though most professors would probably argue they can tell the difference). If you're knitting, there's no disguise, and no sense of needing one.

But I also disagree with Miss Manners' deference to precedent on this matter. I would contend that the needlework women engaged in while sitting in on gentlemen's conversation was acceptable because they were not considered part of the conversation, and not distracting because they literally were not seen. Indeed, in that period the guise of being busy with something else may have allowed many a woman to listen in where otherwise she would not have been welcome.

The problem that this person is complaining about is the opposite: people who are expected to be actively engaged, actively engaging themselves in a different activity. I won't argue that you can't knit and listen, becuase it would be pointless. You can, and many people do.. But it does convey a certain level of apartness. You can knit and listen, sure, but you can't, for example, knit and raise your hand, or knit and take notes, or knit and keep your eyes on the speaker. And these women, it seems, were doing needlework that entailed reviewing and following directions--so that surely required the majority of their attention.

So I guess I don't really know if it's "rude" or not. Knitting in unorthodox settings doesn't bother me as much as it does some of my colleagues. But I don't think Miss Manners' explanation is particularly helpful--or even relevant, so much have settings changed.

Bedside Manners?

I feel like I've been pushing Abby a lot the last few weeks--her columns have just been more interesting, featuring issues slightly more outside the norm (from "my neighbors think my son is my secret lover!" to "my friend may be harming her child by keeping her booze in his line of sight!"), funny writers, sassy answers, or all of the above.

There's nothing too wild about this one, but it's the second most entertaining issue of the day (after the son/lover issue linked above).

A woman has a question about etiquette. Or does she?

DEAR ABBY: My husband and I are having a "debate," and I hope you can help. When dining out in a restaurant, is it proper etiquette to ask for a taste from another person's plate? -- WHAT'S MINE IS MINE IN MAINE

Of course, she doesn't clarify if the food-sharing is going on between herself and her husband, or if others are involved, but I can't help but think that "etiquette" doesn't really apply within a marriage. And I don't think that to say that is the same as suggesting that married folk shouldn't treat each other with as much respect and politeness as they would others. They should--but there's also a level of comfort and intimacy there, or should be, since it's, um, a marriage (sorry for the excessive commas...)

If this woman doesn't want her husband to eat off her plate, she shouldn't choose (or need) to recourse to dining etiquette. She should be able to say, "please don't do that," and he should respect her request. No mediation necessary! (Actually, I feel like you should be able to do that in any social situation....no need to say "You have broken rule 142.A.62 of dining out at a mid-scale chain restaurant on Tuesdays." Personal preference can have just as much weight, and in many cases deserves as much respect, as etiquette.)

Abby, like me, made a speculative stab at what the real heart of the issue was:

DEAR W.M.I.M.: I have never heard of any rule of etiquette that forbids asking for a bite. If you're afraid your husband will take too much, place a small portion on your bread plate and pass it to him.

With a frenemy like you.....

The concept of the "frenemy" surfaced in Carolyn's Friday column, which caught my attention because I think the first time I heard the term was the night before at happy hour. Then, it was used to describe an unliked/unlikable boyfriend's best friend: someone you'd rather not know, but who's not going anywhere, so you've got to embrace it.

This writer, and Carolyn's other responders, seemed to define it a bit more narrowly. For them, frenemies are (mostly female) friends who make backhanded comments about clothes, dress, weight, etc. of their friends. Basically just big Mean Girls. I like the broader definition, especially since we already have Mean Girls for the narrower one (thanks, Tina Fey). But that's neither here nor there.

The original writer's question wasn't really that interesting....just looking for a sassy comeback to her own frenemy's unsolicited diet-tribes (I wish I could take credit for that pun, but the glory goes to the Lifetime network and its new reality show). Carolyn was fairly neutral (she embraces snark, but rightly reminded us that it loses its pizazz when forced and scripted), recommending that the writer remain calm when the comments are directed at her ("I'm surprised to hear you say that," etc.), and step in to take action (saying something like "How is that helpful?") when directed at another friend .

Wow, this is a lot of build up and background to get to what I really wanted to get to, that being other readers' responses to the frenemy issue as published in Carolyn's live chat from yesterday. There are a bunch of really funny ones, and some more regular generally useful ones, and I'm posting them here in order, gleaning kernels out of a long and varied chat session (full of lots of other good stuff--check it out). Enjoy.

Frenemies: Ha! I could've written the letter from the woman with the frenemy. The person I know loves tot point out other "flaws" to them. I have handled it by being delighted that she noticed.

her: You're getting a lot of gray hair. me: I know! Sparkly!

her: You've put on some weight. me: I know! Voluptuous!

She doesn't point out stuff to me much anymore. In her world of zero-sum happiness, I was taking way too much.

Carolyn Hax: Brilliant. Thank you.

This one is brilliant (oops, Carolyn just said that). But it is. It totally reminds me of a California girl I know, who manages to be sarcastic and peppy simultaneously. I wish I scowled less and said "Sparkly!" more. Goals.

Frenemy: Is the technical term for ridding oneself of a frenemy a "frenema"?

Carolyn Hax: I am both amused and skeeved. Nicely done.

This one is something Sam would say, and then look very pleased with himself, causing me to roll my eyes while also being very impressed.

Columbus, Ohio: Regarding Frenemies:

Her: That not a very attractive outfit.

Me: Uh, that's kind of harsh. I wouldn't expect someone as nice as you to make a comment like that.

I've used this before with success, and (sigh) my closest frenemy is my MOM.

Carolyn Hax: Sigh. Good adaptation, though.

Not thrilling, but useful and neutral. Sorry about the mom.

Hmm, that's it. I thought there were more. Anyway, Carolyn readers, at least the chat participants, are mostly just as funny and smart as she is. Which is great, because then you get all the more insight and sass. And who could ask for anything more?

It's so easy (it's so easy it's so easy it's so easy)

In most cases, we know, it's practically impossible for an advice columnist to speak both specifically to a writer's own situation, and also give insights for the masses. They can't get all the information they need to lead the writer in the right direction based on three sentences in a letter.

That's why so often they fall back on "seek counseling" or, if the writer is a minor, "talk to a trusted adult." These answers aren't particularly helpful, but neither are they harmful. They're not particularly satisfying to readers (nor to the writers, I imagine), but at least it's an answer.

But there's (at least) one area where columnists can be specific, while also broadly helpful to readers across all types of columns: giving people the words to bring up difficult, contentious, or embarrassing subjects with colleagues, partners, and, in today's case, strangers on the subway.

Today Miss Manners printed a letter from a woman frustrated with fellow commuters who take whole subway poles for themselves by leaning on them, preventing others from holding on:

Is there a polite way to confront these violators? After all, it is another breach of subway etiquette to speak to strangers (unless there is an unusual event, of course). On the occasions when I have tried a gentle request not to lean, I have usually been met with hostility.

Miss Manners assures her that there is, and it goes a little something like this: "Excuse me, may I hold on here please?"

So simple...yet so effective. For the rider who has been seething for years over this breach of transportetiquette and assault against her safety and personal rights, plotting in her bubbling brain the poster of subway rules she is going to passive aggressively and surreptitiously post throughout the city, such a simple, neutral request probably seems to come out of the blue.

If she's anything like me, she practiced it in her head over and over and over again. And tried it. And it worked. And, hopefully, it made her day.

Miss Manners is great at these--turning potential confrontations of the offenders by the offended into simple, gracious interactions. Undermining the lecture in manners they want to give by reminding them to simply use their own.

Amy is also great at this. Her forte is less in reminding people not to be crazy, and more in helping them approach potentially embarrassing conversations--the co-worker who is unaware of their fatally bad breath/obnoxious and interfering habit, the partner who gives lame gifts (at Christmas or in bed...), the neighbor who has overstepped their picket fence.

When we feel like we're being put upon, we tend to seethe until the issue seems too huge for us to approach, and we don't know what to say, because we'd rather just never face the person again than address what is bothering us. This is the niche where advice columnists have real power and the good ones have real skill--they have the objectivity and distance to see the situation for what it is and spell out in simple, non-confrontational but efficient terms, a script for handling these difficult conversations.

They make it look so damn easy.

Blame the editor? I sure hope so....

Either all of Abby's contributors are sitting at the window seat in their parents' Martha's Vineyard homes,writing with navy blue fountain pens, or Abby has a very awkward crew of editors, who are enforcing a very awkward means of creating consistency across her letters.

The vast majority of Abby letters, in their publicly printed state, make reference to the writer's own parents as "Mother" and "Daddy." Rarely "Mom," and never simply "my mother." This is a pretty old school thing, and my grandmother actually speaks about her parents this way--always Mother and Daddy. But it sounds strange in a newpaper--is it too familiar? or too pretentious? I can't decide....can one be both?--and it sounds even stranger out of the mouths of babes, as in today's column:

DEAR ABBY: I am 14 years old and the daughter of a successful businessman. Daddy recently announced that we have been invited to the bat mitzvah of the daughter of one of his co-workers. I don't want to go.

The girl's not anti-Semitic, it turns out, just a bit shy, a bit Catholic, and feeling uncomfortable and out of her element at a large Jewish celebration. Abby actually gives her some good advice about turning her discomfort into an advantage--seeking out someone friendly at the party to talk her through the traditions, etc.

But that intro. "Daddy?" "A successful businessman?" Yikes!

This kind of stuff makes me wonder if Abby's editors are significantly shaping these letters--no matter the age or geographical location of the writer, they're all in the same "voice"--or whether, instead, people write to Abby in a certain tone because of what they read. Are they adopting the speech conventions traditionally used in her column, hoping to make it into print?

Hmm...doubtful. Hey team Abby, back off, and let the people speak for themselves!