Hanukkah Harry help us all, the radio stations are already playing Christmas carols, and it's not even Thanksgiving yet! If you can't beat 'em, join 'em -- with Miss Conduct's First Annual Holiday Song Parody Contest.

The prize will be two tickets to the interfaith holiday play Tru Grace at Central Square Theater, which runs November 19 through December 27. (You can redeem the tickets for whatever date you like; and they're season tickets, which means you get a complimentary glass of wine, too. Cha cha!)

Here's the rules:

1. Write a parody of at least one stanza, and the title, of a holiday song. (You can write more if you want, but that's the minimum.)

2. You can choose any Christmas, Hanukkah, Thanksgiving, "Auld Lang Syne," or even Halloween song. (Here's an entertaining one about the financial collapse based on "Monster Mash.")

3. The parody can be about anything -- etiquette, holiday pet peeves, current events, sports, pop culture, as long as it is reasonably clean (double entendres permitted if they're clever) and reasonably non-political (hoping for world peace is fine; detailed plans as to how we get there are above the pay grade of this blog) and generally non-hateful and not excessively tasteless.

4. You can enter as many parodies as you like.

Fire up the online rhyming dictionary and let's get started! I can't wait to hear what you all have in mind. The contest will end this Friday at 5pm -- depending on how many entries we have, I'll either announce the winner myself next Monday, or we'll put the top contenders up for voting, as we've done in the clerihew contest.

Get creative, and good luck! Tickets to Tru Grace await you!

NOTE: This post will run at the top of the blog for the rest of the week. New content will appear below.

I'm sure many of you will be facing various social dilemmas this holiday season. If you already have an idea of what they might be, it's not too soon to send them to missconduct@globe.com. We put the magazine to bed much earlier than the rest of the newspaper, which gives us a fairly long lead time. So get me your holiday questions now!

Last week, we looked at the question of whether or not it is rude for parents to let toddlers have their own seat on the subway. The original question mentioned parents "putting [toddlers] on their laps and allowing someone else (like a senior citizen) to have the seat," and it was generally agreed -- by me as well -- that yes, you ought to give an older person a seat, whether it means holding your kid on your lap or, as some parents prefer, giving the other person your own seat and standing in front of the toddler.

I'll confess to being one of those people who has a vague sense of irritation at seated toddlers on the subway. Unlike some folks, I don't much mind being addressed by my first name by anyone old enough to pronounce it correctly, but it does seem disrespectful that I'm on my 40-something feet after a long day of work and you're on your three-year-old butt after a long day of naps and playdates. But that's my problem, as toddlers have very real physical (and emotional) limitations that make riding the T a different experience for (and with) them than it is for me. akmom pointed out:

The toddler needs a seat just as much as an elderly person - they are often unsteady on their feet, they are too short to hold on to the bar unless you are near the door, they are at a perfect height to get whacked by other passengers' bags, etc.

And both RH (comment #2) and JoGeek (#16) wrote longish descriptions about traveling with toddlers that are worth a full read. The general rules people agreed on were:

1. Toddlers need seats.
2. So do old people and and pregnant ladies and people with crutches, etc., so be willing to give a seat -- your own or your child's -- up for them.
3. Parents should (and usually do) do their best to control their child, and nonparents should (and usually do) understand that as long as the parent is making an effort, that is all that can be expected.
4. If you have a stroller that you're not folding up, the child should be in it, and
5. Taking a toddler on the T during rush hour is a bad idea.

There was debate about #4, actually, with some parents chiming in that their children's nap and activity schedule requires them to be on the subway during rush hour. I'm not the authority on what other people's schedules will and will not allow, but the response from commuters suggests that parents off to a playdate are not going to get a warm reception during peak travel hours.

I have to include this comment by mp simply because it is counter to everything else I have ever heard or experienced:

I think it's fine for the toddler to have a seat. I take the T every day (blue, green and red lines) and I have never seen an elderly person standing without being offered a seat. I have seen elderly women refuse multiple offers if they do actually want to stand. There are always plenty of able bodied adults around who are willing to give up their seats for the elderly. A pregnant friend of mine said that once she was big enough, people always offered her a seat too.

Okay then! I want to ride the rails with mp, who clearly has far better luck than most of us mortals. Aside from that, the discussion was rather predictable until pinkkittie and Marcus brought some entertainment to the rather monotonous reasonableness with some good old fashioned hating on kids and moms. Pinkkittie pointed out that her dog doesn't get his own seat on the subway:

If there are no seats, I carry him, and he's not that light. If there is a seat, he sits on my lap. If he squirms, I tell him to settle. He doesn't understand English, so if I can manage that with my dog, you can manage that with your todddler.

Marcus started off with

From reading this thread, one might picture the typical Boston T-riding mom as a paragon of virtue, a Madonna of patience, a Ma Walton of common-sense reasonableness, a Mrs. Manners of consideration.

.. and went on from there in the expected direction, to which JR responded:

I'll agree with Marcus on the fact that there are certainly parents on the trains that are rude and inconsiderate. However, there are all kinds of people on the train (or in any public place for that matter) that are rude and inconsiderate in any number of ways - why should the entire population of parents be any different than any other cross section of the population?

I think this is an excellent point generally, and a not-half-bad definition of bigotry. Any group will have its share of thoughtless, stupid, selfish, wrong-headed people (as well as thoughtful, bright, considerate, right-minded people who occasionally have really bad days). Bigots, however, are particularly prone to notice the T.S.S.W-H. members -- and to attribute their T.S.S.W-Hedness to their group membership. And, possibly, bigots are bothered more by the irritating actions of people they are bigoted against. This isn't something I've seen any research on, or am basing on anything other than my own intuition and observations, but it seems to me that, say, a misogynist man will probably be more annoyed if he is rudely cut off by a woman driver than by a fellow man. A homophobic person is more likely to be annoyed by a loud group of drunk gay people at a restaurant than by a loud group of drunk straight people. And so on.

Today's lovely question sounds like it's straight from an episode of "The Office":

My boss, in an apparent effort to promote friendship, has decided to eat lunch with his staff (three of us) daily in the company cafeteria. The first time he sat down with us we were surprised, as this had never happened before (some of us have been here more than 10 years) . When it happened again, we were (and are) nonplussed. This half hour is our only time in the work day to chat and relax. We also use the time to gossip about some of our boss's failings, which now include insensitivity to his employees' need for a bit of private time. It's a small division and there is no one we can speak to about this. We enjoy each other but wish to maintain distance from the man, and really want a break!

Is there any polite way to get out of this one? I'm not sure there is, but I'd love to be proven wrong!

As usual, I'll post my response to your comments next week (the regular schedule is new questions here on Monday and Thursday; responses/summary on the following Tuesday/Wednesday and Friday. If you want more to read in the meantime, check out my other blog here.)

We had general and overwhelming agreement that last Monday's LW who was bothered by a "freeloader" at a neighborhood potluck (who mowed the LW's lawn for no charge) needed to get a life. Ashley put it amusingly:

The fact that you actually pay attention to such trivial details as which guests bring store bought bagels and which ones make homemade dishes tells me you're not really cut out to be the type of host that casual potlucks demand.

So I'd scrap the idea and just have dinner parties where you can control the menu and the guests from now on. And I'd offer to pay the neighbor for mowing your lawn. I think both of those things would satisfy your sense of propriety and your sense of fairness.

Nicely solved. Jlen pointed out that invitations are not always clear:

I'd also like to add that it is not clear from your letter how you invite and handle the potluck organization. Do you simply say, "Come by for a potluck" and hope you get enough food to feed the crowd? If so, then I would not be surprised that sometimes some people come empty-handed -- that sort of invitation does not make clear that you expect everyone to "pay" for their attendance with a dish. Especially if there is no need to RSVP, that sort of invitation just does not scream "dish required." Some people, such as your neighbors, may think the point is to socialize, not to bring a dish.

If you think everyone needs to bring a dish in order to attend, frankly you should say so. You can do so politely: when you invite someone, just ask him/her what they would like to bring; tell them you'd like to know so that you can make sure there will be enough food for everyone and so that you can fill in any gaps beforehand. That should make your expectation clear.

Guests need to RSVP, bring appropriate hospitality gifts, etc., but it's also up to hosts to communicate clearly what kind of event is going on and what is expected. We can expect people to be polite, but we can't ask them to be mindreaders.

JoGeek posted a story about some friends who weren't willing to be "freeloaders" when perhaps they should have been. This reminded me of the column I did a few weeks ago about the person who didn't want to attend a holiday party they couldn't reciprocate:

Labor day weekend this year I went to a big all-weekend campout on a friend's property. Two couples didn't show up until the last day with vague excuses of other plans. They later confessed that they didn't come for the first two days because they were both recently unemployed and didn't have enough money to bring a dish to pass for the 40+ people attending. They didn't want to "freeload". Everyone else was in agreement that we would MUCH rather have had their company than their dinner rolls. We had more than enough food for everyone, whether or not they brought something.

Lots of good responses to the request for good holiday gift ideas. The original suggestion came in from a reader who recommended the gift of a snow-removal service for elderly relatives, and so, unsurprisingly, a number of people chimed in with ideas of their own for older friends or family. Annette had a good one:

Cab vouchers. A lot of cab companies offer them and they're a great gift for an elderly relative that can no longer drive themselves around but would still like a measure of independence. Before my Nonna moved into assisted living, this was what my father and his siblings would get her. And she loved it.

Great idea! bah humbug had another good one:

Here is a simple idea for the elderly: offer to come in and change all the batteries in the smoke detectors. Make it a yearly event.

E.A. Week had a good point about how to give such gifts:

Third, re: gifts to the elderly—or to anyone who is living alone, or whose physical abilities or domestic skills are limited—the gifts of time and skill are invaluable … Don’t wait to be asked—offer to help, and above all, let the recipient know the offer is made with gladness and pleasure. For a person of limited skills and/or resources, sometimes simply not having to beg for help is a priceless gift. Help that is offered grudgingly, or with too many emotional strings attached, is no gift at all.

And trying to be a thoughtful shopper digs a little deeper as well:

For those looking for gifts for elderly family members, here are my old tips. I would try to stay in tune with my grandmother's daily life. When she was still able to drive locally, I would get her gift certificates to her preferred drug or grocery store. When she mainly just stayed home, I would get her a large supply of duck food, as feeding her visiting friends was a big highlight for her. When she moved into assisted living, I got her gift certificates for the in-house beauty salon or a nice bright new piece of clothing as she started comparing her clothes to her neighbors' and I thought maybe some cheerful clothes would help her feel cheerful. But most importantly, I got these ideas from visits, as I knew the visits are what she wanted most. [Italics added]

I mention in my book that part of what we are doing when we give someone a gift is showing them how well we know them. I don't think this function can be overlooked, especially in the case of older people who, as we've discussed, are often ignored or treated as a member of a homogenous group. (This is also why it's okay to give money and gift certificates to teenagers and college students, as they don't want to feel easily known.)

Many, many folks said that they were doing "experience gifts" this year, which I can't recommend highly enough even in economic good times. From JennT:

I've started doing cookie baking dates at the start of the holiday season with close friends who have kids rather than exchanging gifts for them. They all get so much already, and rather than adding another shopping item to our list, it gives us a guaranteed day together during the season.

For children, give them an outing instead of a toy. It doesn't have to be fancy - a trip to the zoo, a movie, or even just to come over and bake cookies or play a game. We've asked relatives to do this the past few years and it has been a huge hit - with everyone. The memories are worth so much more than any toy.

I started instituting experience based gifts. Unless there's something I know my mom really needs and/or wants, her gift these days is an experience. I'm trying to take her to Avenue Q in Boston this year. Two years ago we saw Springsteen. While it doesn't save my wallet, I figure if i'm going to spend 50-60 dollars (or more), I'd much rather spend it on an experience than stuff.

Melissa's family has decided to be strict about gift-giving for economic and environmental reasons:

Since two people in my extended family are unemployed, and since we are trying to be more "green", we've instituted a nothing new policy for Christmas and birthdays. The rule is that we can give each other something we make, or regift something we already have (such as a book we really like or a movie we think the other person will like). Used items purchased from a thrift store are also acceptable. It's been really great because it's forced us all to think about the person, instead of the gift. And it's reduced our impact on the environment by reusing things instead of buying new.

We've also spent more time together as a family as a result. This fall, we spend the long holiday weekend making homemade apple butter and spiced pears for our friends from fruit in our yard! This winter, we'll make cookies and bread.

I really like this, I have to say. (I'm glad everyone in Melissa's family does, too, and it didn't cause a big feud.) It sounds fun and creative and generally less stressful. It wouldn't make me feel deprived at all to celebrate Christmas this way, if I still did – would it you?

Finally, I have to note this, also from bah humbug:

When my kids were little, grandma recorded hours and hours of stories - some of them read from favorite books; most of them either from her own childhood, or just made up by herself and her imagination. Meanwhile grandpa has gotten handy with the scanner and each year for xmas gives us all a CD containing old family photos.

Great idea. A friend of mine did that for her family one year, with photos going back as far as she had them, and scored with a recording of her grandmother playing bouzouki music. It was a big fat Greek Christmas hit with her family, too.

One thing I like about running questions on my blog is that I don't have to edit them, as I do when I write the column for the magazine. Certain letters really ought to be published as they were received, like this one:

PLEASE help me solve a very awkard siutation!!!!!!!! My husband and I have a 4 week old baby. My husband's cousin (who is 5 years old) constantly kisses my baby non stop. I try to politely move the baby away but she will keep trying to kiss him. I don't want to create a scene with all the in laws and this is the only reason why I have yet to speak up. I am known as the germaphob wife as it is. I know the girl is just young and and being nice (all the grown ups stand around saying Ahh is that just adorable) while I am dying inside that she's spreading her germs on my new baby!! ( she always seems to have some sort of runny nose or cough) Am I being over the top? I am especially worried about flu season!!!!

What do you think?

As usual, I'll post my response to your comments next week (the regular schedule is new questions here on Monday and Thursday; responses/summary on the following Tuesday/Wednesday and Friday. If you want more to read in the meantime, check out my other blog here.)

Today's question brings up an issue I've noticed myself:

I've noticed that on crowded subway cars, a lot of parents will allow their toddler-aged children to sit on their own seat rather than putting them on their laps and allowing someone else (like a senior citizen) to have the seat. I was wondering if this is considered rude or not, for future reference when I have children.

What do you think?

As usual, I'll post my response to your comments next week (the regular schedule is new questions here on Monday and Thursday; responses/summary on the following Tuesday/Wednesday and Friday. If you want more to read in the meantime, check out my other blog here.)

I'll be chatting this Wednesday from noon to 1pm here. Come join us!

The question of what is meant by "respect for the elderly" got sidetracked a little, I fear, by the fact that it was originally inspired by a letter about dealing with bigoted relatives. No matter how much I wanted it to be a fresh question, people kept going back to the initial question of bigotry. So we got a lot of folks saying that respect for the elderly doesn't mean putting up with bigoted or hateful language, which is true. We also got a few folks pointing out that you aren't required to put up with abuse from your family members, which is also true. (The New York Times had a good blog article a while back about breaking up with one's parents. This is a drastic step, but it's one I wish more people would at least think seriously about taking.)

Of course, I wasn't talking about respect for bigoted, abusive old people, just regular old old people, and the general consensus seemed to be that the two things that most define "respect for the elderly" are 1) having patience with the physical limitations of the old, and 2) listening to them. Old Marian writes:

I am elderly. I don't move as fast or as easily as I used to. I really appreciate young people who make allowances for my physical limitations -- yes, I like a seat on the subway, some help traversing snowbanks, the realization that my cane and I are not going to cross the street as quickly as on-coming cars might wish. But why should anyone give in to my opinions or demands for non-physical aspects of life? I never could understand how just surviving longer made me more deserving of intellectual respect. I hope I'm wiser than I once was, but on any particular subject I might be wrong, and I'd enjoy more information, a spirited discussion, and perhaps enlightenment.

1. You watch what you say in front of elderly people. As in, I wouldn't swear in front of my Grandmother, or Mother, for that matter. However, I think you change your speech to suit circumstances constantly, so the elderly is just another group catered to. (classroom, work, bar, in-laws, family, friends, children, etc.) 2. You make sure they are comfortable, physically. This means, giving up your seat on the train, holding your Grandma's arm when you walk into a restaurant so she doesn't slip, getting your Grandma/Grandpa's coat/sweater/blanket for them when they are cold, getting them a cup of tea. I mean, I'm sure you would do these things for other people, too, you just usually pay a little more attention to these things when it comes to the elderly.

I agree with the idea that a lot of this is paying attention to context, as well as to individuals.

bluemoose writes beautifully about the experience of listening:

For me, it means listening. Not to bigoted tirades, but to the stories of people who have lived far longer than I have and who have experienced first-hand some of the events that I, as an historian, read and write about.

I deal directly with many local historical societies, few of which have anyone under 40 in their organization (and frankly, many of them would feel lucky to have someone under 60 on board). Meetings with them are not the quick, concise, professional, clipped affairs I may sometimes wish. Not only do many of the participants move more slowly, but most of them want to tell us the stories of the place, their memories of events, the reasons the historic places in town are meaningful to them. It behooves me to listen, as this is not history I will find in printed sources, and it gets to the heart of why I do what I do. I respect that I have something to learn from people who have lived much longer than I have, and that respect in turn earns me some of theirs as an "expert" in my field.

Nancy G also focuses on the community aspect: we honor our own history and communities by honoring the people who lived and created them.

I think the best way to examine this is to look at cultures in which the elderly are revered like in China or Africa or Japan. The logic of it is that older people (not necessarily "elders," but elder to you) have a wealth of experience and perspective that is useful to us as a society and as individuals. Elders are our institutional memory and the keepers of the history, rituals and traditions that sustain us. In that sense, respecting your elders means respecting your community. In that context, respecting your elders means making sure that, in the rush to the new and modern, their voices are heard and their physical, social and emotional needs are taken care of.

That this kind of "respecting your elders" would benefit everyone is clear. Nice work, Nancy G! Irish Tweed breaks down the question of "respect" a little further:

I've long held the belief that there is a keen difference between dignity and respect in relating to others. My fundamental belief is that every human being, regardless of age, physical or mental capability, is to be treated as having dignity by virtue of their human-ness.

On the other hand, respect is something earned. It comes from categories of both knowledge and behavior that garner regard because of the choices and/or efforts required to attain a particular status (i.e. teacher, doctor, clergy, etc.). When such knowledge or behavior is conducted in a manner that's unworthy of trust, respect is lost, even though inherent dignity is maintained. None of us is 'better' than another; perhaps, some are more fortunate or have made wiser decisions, but when the questions arises, I come back to the distinction between dignity and respect. If I am worthy of respect, I hope to receive it. I, like all others, however, am worthy of the dignity of civil treatment at the least, because I belong to the human family.

cosmogirl points out that belonging to the human family may sometimes mean not feeling all that grown up, and that respect for the elderly might involve recognizing that the generational gulf isn't all that big a deal:

I think it's recognizing that society tends to overlook/ignore/diminish this group, so you should be aware of it and don't do it yourself. Just treat them like "any other person". (Because they are!)

Keep in mind that the people in their 80s today were in their 20s during WWII. You should hear my mom's friends' stories about partying in Scollay Square with all the soldiers and sailors on leave. Sounded like Sex in the City! They loved "their" music and dancing as much as we love ours.

I'm in my 50s now and I swear I do not feel any different than I did in my 20s. So, I now realize that will probably be true when I'm in my 80s, too! (Still listening to rock and roll, of course.)

So, I guess what I'm saying is don't treat the elderly like children. Listen to them. And do help them out (shoveling their steps, carrying in their groceries, etc.) when you can. I always say that if it was my mom, I would want someone to help her if I wasn't there.

Way back in the mists of time we addressed a question from an LW who was troubled by a man in her neighborhood who walks his dog off-leash and doesn't pick up after it. Everyone agreed that the neighbor was in the wrong, but as JustQ pointed out, dog etiquette can be confusing:

I am new to dog ownership, and am constantly flummoxed by what correct dog etiquette is in certain situations. Can I leave the little woofer in my car while I run into the bank, or will someone call the cops and report it as abuse? Why did I leave my dog in the car, when that lady with the poodle just walked right into the bank with it?

Most humans are terrible at taking constructive criticism from strangers, but at the same time, most of us don't go out of our way to be jerks, and could use a gentle nudge back to the correct path.

If it was only an issue of this guy walking the dogs off leash, you could go up to him, pat the dog, ask his name, etc, then casually mention that your friend's brother's cousin just got a HUGE ticket from a beat cop for walking her dog off-leash and maybe he ought to be careful - you know those cops... Make yourself a co-conspirator instead of an accuser.

Your best bet is to talk to him the way JusQ suggested, as a fellow dog lover. You might even get some information you didn't anticipate. I once was approached by someone concerned that I was walking my dog off leash, and I was able to show her that my dog had a remote collar (approved by the park rangers) and was indeed under control. And I learned that my effort to disguise the collar was a bad idea; when people could see the collar, it reassured them that the dog was under control.

If there's a good community of dog owners, applying some peer pressure might be in order. JP Gal had a good story about that:

Our dog plays with a group where the humans are extremely protective of the access we have to a beautiful public park and not only clean up after their own dogs, but also clean up stray poop less considerate owners left behind, as well as trash, bottles, broken glass, etc. Once a stranger (to us) and his dog walked by and after the dog did its business, the fellow started to stroll off, leaving the business behind. One of our group called after him in a cheery voice, "Hey, did you forget a bag? I have one!", gently waving a plastic bag in her hand. She jogged over, gave it to him, and he picked up the poop.

It might have worked because her dog was much larger than his dog, or he was outnumbered by our group, or he genuinely did forget a bag and was grateful for the help. But it worked nonetheless, and I thought it was pretty classy.

In this case, there were a lot of other folks there to enforce the group norm, but I bet the neighbor in the original letter would still rethink his ways if he were approached by more than one other person.

Rog thought that tact in this case was uncalled for:

This guy needs to hear statements such as "I don't feel safe", "I don't like picking up other people's dog poop", or "This behavior is illegal". Again, no justifications are necessary. He's in the wrong, the LW is in the right. The pleasantries and hints suggested by others are well meant, but aren't going to acted on by someone who is OK with leaving feces in his wake for others to clean up. Sometimes the most civil and polite course of action is to state needs, expectations, and consequences clearly and plainly with no chance of misunderstanding.

I'm a huge fan of "stating needs, expectations, and consequences clearly and plainly with no chance of misunderstanding," and tend to recommend it a lot, but what interests me is Rog's assumption that anyone who would fail to clean up after his dog is some kind of sociopath immune to normal reasoning and social influence, or at least might be. I wouldn't leap to that assumption about a negligent dog owner--although I do leap to it, enthusiastically, in the case of people who smoke where there are clear "no smoking" signs. Everyone's trigger gets tripped differently ...

I'm back, everyone! Thanks for your patience. On with the show ...

A disgruntled neighbor writes:

For the past seven years, I've hosted an annual potluck for the families on neighboring streets. One family -- nearby neighbors with whom I am on friendly terms -- regularly comes empty-handed. Though I haven't really kept track, it's probably been three times out of the seven years. It's not that there's a paucity of food -- there's always plenty. And it's not that they can't cook. (I do, however, have some culinarily challenged neighbors who bring bagels and cream cheese, or fried bacon, or stop at the bakery for pastries.) Maybe my expectations are too high, but my idea of an annual potluck is that it's a chance to get together, meet the new families, catch up on the gossip, and share something of and from yourself with your neighbors. It should be said that these dish-free attendees do mow my lawn for free. Do they think that as a result, it's OK to come without a potluck contribution? I'd love some advice on dealing with the freeloaders next year.

What do you think?

As usual, I'll post my response to your comments next week (the regular schedule is new questions here on Monday and Thursday; responses/summary on the following Tuesday/Wednesday and Friday. If you want more to read in the meantime, check out my other blog here.)

... see you in November!

Mr. Improbable and I are taking a MUCH-NEEDED work/pleasure trip to Italy. The "work" part is the Genoa Science Festival (you can read about our first experience here).

I will resume blogging as usual here on Monday, November 2, asking more questions and responding to your thoughts on dog etiquette, respect for the elderly, and thoughtful gifts. (Or thoughtful dogs, respect for etiquette, and gifts for the elderly. It's all good.)

Because of the way Globe blogs are set up, all comments must be approved by me. So if you comment between now and the 30th, don't expect it to show up--I'm not sure if I'll have internet access on this trip, and am frankly rather hoping I don't.

I've got a couple of posts scheduled to go up on my personal blog, so you can check out the action there if you haven't already.

Ciao!

UPDATE: Yeah, folks, I didn't totally abandon the blog. Sorry about that. What I did was to set up this nice "On Vacation!" post, and then set it to the date I was to RETURN home, not to the date I LEFT. I've had on-and-off internet access since I've been gone, and this is the first I've realized it, thanks to a comment someone left in the chat thread. How much did Robin need a vacation? Let's count this as Exhibit A.

Join me!

A while back we took on a letter from a person whose ex-roommate had left behind a futon, saying that if it didn't sell on Craigslist in 12 days the LW could have it, and then demanding it back after three months.

One of the questions I asked was, "What unaddressed issues leap out at you from this question?" The main thing I was getting at is that the LW seems to have been a terrific doormat, writing that the roommate "consistently shorted me on the cable bill and hardly ever bought household supplies and [I] had done all of the cleaning," yet insisting that said roommate was "not a bad guy." (He is as far as I'm concerned.) The letter ends with two questions: "Am I correct in thinking that the futon is mine? Would it be ethical to charge him a storage fee if he insisted on getting it back?"

I'm not sure how the LW thinks they are going to be able to extract a storage fee from someone they're not living with, when they couldn't get half the cable bill from the guy when he was right there in the house. But Anne with an E gets at what I was really thinking:

Judging by the description of your co-existence with this person, you spent your shared tenancy as a doormat, never addressing division of labor or financial discrepancies in order to keep the peace. This is fine - we all have to decide where to draw the line (and overlook some things) when it comes to shared living. But you never specifically framed the situation to your ex-roomie as a "You were a less-than-great roommate so I get to keep our futon" type of thing. So don't even bring it into the discussion. He agreed to give you the futon after a specific date, that date has long past, end of story.

Exactly. I think the ex-roommate sounds like a rat, but that isn't the point.

Everyone agreed that the LW had the right to keep the futon (though not to charge the ex-roommate a storage fee, as that had never been part of the original agreement). So the real question isn't one of ethics, but tactics. What's more important--keeping the peace, or as heatherv1211 wittily put it, keeping the piece?

A couple of folks made good points about getting things in writing--kdub was particularly clever:

Oh and also, you might want to send him an email or text reminding him of your "if it doesn't sell after 12 days on craigslist it's yours" agreement and he in any way confirms that but says "yeah well I changed my mind" or "well it didn't sell and now I want it back" hold on to those. Those can also be your proof that you two did have an agreement (that's assuming that he doesn't deny making that agreement).

... but somehow I don't really see this one ending up in small-claims court. The roommate sounds like a user, but a disorganized and lazy user. As ruthling predicts,

Someone that flaky will probably stand you up a couple of times when he schedules to come and take the futon, and will probably expect you to carry it, and maybe even rent him a truck to move it with.

Indeed. Trying to give the futon back might actually take up more of the LW's time and energy than trying to hang onto it! I liked JoGeek's take on the situation:

This is a situation where you have to weigh principle against pest potential. Sure, you're right that he has no claim to the futon. If you really want to solve the problem on that principle, sell the futon yourself and get a couch. The ex-roommate can't fight to get something back that simply isn't there anymore. If your goal, however, is to never hear from or deal with your roommate again, then give them the futon. Is your peace of mind worth it? You'll have the karma and satisfaction of being the better person, with a bonus of no more e-mails.

Either way you should consider an option that gets the thing out of your apartment. Keeping it will only serve to remind you of the ex roommate every time you look at it. Do you really have enough fond memories of them for that? Sell it or swap for a couch on Craigslist, then block the ex-roommate's e-mail and move on. Don't engage them, don't respond, don't communicate, don't lend energy to their dissatisfaction. Or, as I usually put it, don't feed the troll. Trust me that in the long run it's more satisfying than the instant gratification of snark.

And Molly's even more succinct one:

Tell him you've sold it, then do so.

Yep.

Here's an interesting thing, though ... the number of people who spoke of giving up the futon without a fight as being the better, more mature, bigger, etc. thing to do (as in JoGeek's comment above). I disagree. This is why I am not a pacifist. I think, actually, keeping the futon is the right thing to do, not only because the LW is entitled to it, but because Userboy needs to learn that the world doesn't exist for his convenience, and what better time than now?

I don't think that hitting back when you are hit means you are participating in evil--I think it means you are stopping it. (If you hit back strategically, that is. bah humbug's comment--#9--was too long to post here, but it's a very interesting analysis of the problem from the point of view of game theory. Go check it out.) I think, actually, not fighting back--allowing yourself to be a victim when you have the choice not to be--is participating in evil. "When you have the choice not to be" is, of course, the operative phrase. I'm certainly not blaming people who are not capable of fighting back effectively or who are not in a position to do so.

And then of course, there is the question of time and energy. "Participating in evil" is perhaps a melodramatic phrase, but we all do it every day, because we can't track down the ramifications of all our actions. We pay taxes that support government actions we believe are wrong. We buy food and clothing from stores that exploit their workers and harm the environment, because that is what we can afford. We make compromises and trade-offs. That's what life is. If the LW decided that fighting the Good Futon Fight was simply too much trouble right now, I wouldn't judge them. The time spent arguing over the futon could be spent reading a book, or volunteering at a soup kitchen, or writing in a journal, or simply hanging out over beers with some friends. Who am I to say how others should prioritize their lives?

But when you can fight back, and are moved to do so, I think you should, and not consider the impulse to do so selfish or feral in the least. Turning the other cheek simply sends the message that it's okay to go around hitting people in the face.

When the "Miss Conduct" column was longer, before the magazine was ensmallened, I used to run a "My Word" tip every week--often one sent in from a reader. I got what would have been an awfully good one a little while ago, and realized there was no reason I couldn't use it on the blog instead. Here it is:

Helpful hint for holiday gifts for elderly parents/relatives/friends: Offer to pay for snow removal services. This may be more practical than a fruitcake. Elderly persons often rely upon their neighbors for snow removal. Take the initiative and find someone to help consistently.

Nice idea, and there's no reason to restrict it to the elderly, either--anyone who's strapped for time and energy (and who among us is not?) would appreciate such a thoughtful gift.

So I'd like to open up this post to other good suggestions. Particularly as many people are having a hard time financially this year, and may have to get creative about gift-giving--what are some good gift ideas, or gift alternatives, that you've come up with?

As usual, I'll post my response to your comments later (the general schedule is that new questions run here on Monday and Thursday and responses go up Tuesday or Wednesday and Friday--this may be disrupted in the event of holidays, travel, or Big Doings in the other quadrants of my life). If you want more to read in the meantime, check out my other blog here.)

This is just beautiful. In response to our survey of office coffee customs, my friend who had originally posted the question on Facebook did an Excel spreadsheet of the results:

Categories are defined thus:

Coffee pot - any sort of communal drip pot
Pods - any individual serving system
Fee paid - of any type of coffee, those expected to pay for it
No coffee - nothing provided or organized
Individuals - nothing from the company but varying levels of individual contributions (e.g., own coffee pot in the office, a group "coffee club", taking turns buying/bringing coffee)

Breaking it down further, we find that in communal-pot offices, the policy that coffee-making is a shared task twice is twice as common as having a person assigned to coffee duty (sorry for the fuzzy graphics):

Nice quantifying! I'll add the qualitative part and note that management and employees seem to be at an impasse regarding the purpose of coffee. Many folks pointed out that providing coffee to one's employees is not only good for morale, but cheaper in the long run than having employees go out for coffee. However, others made the equally good point that employees want to go out for coffee, in order to get a break from the office.

Thursday questions don't always have to come from my readers, I've decided! Here's the one I'd like to get your thoughts on today:

What is "respect for the elderly"?

I was prompted, of course, by the question we looked at a couple of weeks ago, about dealing with an elderly relative who is bigoted. (My response here.) Commenters were divided as to whether or not "respecting one's elders" meant going along with whatever they said, assuming that they had earned the right to their opinions through life experience, and those who thought "respecting one's elders" meant treating them as rational people capable of learning.

What does that term mean to you? Does it mean anything? Do you think the elderly are deserving, or requiring, of a particular kind of respect that is different from the courtesy we owe others simply by virtue of the fact that they are human?

I've got some ideas of my own on this score, but as usual, I'd like to get your opinions unbiased by what I might say. Share your ideas--and, if you don't mind, your age--and I'll summarize and respond later.

Two weeks ago we looked at a question from a woman whose neighbor's husband had been arrested, and who wondered how, or if, to express condolences. Not a lot of comments on this one, as the LW wrote in halfway through:

I was concerned that my friend would be embarrassed, which is why I wondered what, if anything, I should say or do. I didn't want to aggravate a situation that was surely already uncomfortable, and I couldn't honestly imagine what I would want my friends to do were I in that situation. I followed my instincts, and said nothing. My friend's facebook status a few days later had a vague reference to recent troubles, and I offered a supportive comment there which matched the tone of the status update. I feel OK about that.

That works. As we discussed in the original post, not "changing channels" of communication can help normalize things. A few other commenters brought up two additional good points: 1) there's no need to pretend you don't know if everyone in town does; and 2) for heaven's sake, don't nose around for information to satisfy your own idle (if wholly understandable!) curiosity.

JP Gal made a good point that generalizes to many situations:

Sometimes, the best gift you can give someone going through a crazy/terrible time is just to treat them normally, as if nothing has happened that changes your view of them (or their spouse) or your friendship. I've been through some pretty tough times and when people responded with upset or anger or uncertainty on my behalf, I often felt like I had to reassure THEM on top of everything else I was going through. It was exhausting to try to find something reassuring to say when it was all looking pretty bleak!

Yes, yes, a trillion times YES on not being angry/outraged/etc. on another person's behalf. I suppose this is something I am rather sensitive to right now, as there are plenty of kind folk who have expressed righteous indignation that Miss Conduct's Mind Over Manners is not on the New York Times bestseller list, nor is Miss Conduct herself on "Oprah." Dealing with the world's unfairness toward one's self is hard enough, but having to justify the unfairness to others, or comfort them, can be insult to injury.

Last Thursday, we addressed a question, written by a high-schooler, of how to respond to older relatives who make bigoted comments. I think we should begin, as I often do, with a basic acting-class question: what is your goal, your motivation? Are you trying to change their minds, or simply to live in accordance with your principles? Most commenters suggested, and I agree, that the latter path is the best one to follow. Minds and hearts change slowly, and sometimes not at all, and sometimes in response to the most unpredictable stimuli. Best to simply live the life you want to lead.

Cordelia Potter got firsties with some good common sense:

I would suggest just leaving the room. If you need to give an explanation, a polite, "I'm sorry, but this conversation is really offensive to me and I need to leave before I say something I regret" should suffice and appease your parents as well.

However, she did go on to second-guess herself in this bit, I fear:

Another time my parents brought friends of theirs to my house and these friends also proceeded to slam every ethnic group imaginable - this was more tricky - I couldn't leave since it was my own house and I was technically the host, these were older people I had never met and they were old friends of my parents. Still, I finally got tough and put an end to it in a not so nice way. In retrospect I should have probably just excused myself, saying I couldn't be a part of this conversation, and left the room.

No, you did the right thing, Cordelia, unless by "not so nice" you mean you actually said something like "Can the racist rhetoric, Grampa Simpson, we're in the 20th century now, you backwards coot." As host/ess, you are the alpha dog and it is your right and your duty to run the park as you see fit.

Ashmama had a nice response:

Here's my standard reply to people who start spouting off bigoted or otherwise offensive remarks in my presence: "I am so sorry if I gave you the impression that I'd find remarks like that acceptable. Please excuse me." To my high school-age daughter, I gave this advice when she asked the same question the LW did: You only have to satisfy your own conscience. You don't have to convince the other person that he or she is wrong. So speak your piece graciously, then excuse yourself if possible. You've done your duty as a human being.

And brought up something that the LW didn't say, which is whether or not she had her parents' backup. Whenever there is an interfamily problem, it's important for spouses to support each other, and parents to support children and vice versa. Sometimes this doesn't happen, but advance conversations should still be had before you wade into the waters of family conflict. You need to know who's on your side.

A few people suggested that as possible war veterans, and any rate as people with considerable life experience, the grandparents had earned the right to be hateful. No. Serving one's country does not earn you the right to be a bigot, any more than making a few good movies earns you the right to rape a child. Nothing ever earns you the right to hurt others, and anyone who thinks it does is a moral incompetent unfit for decent civilization. (And unfit for this blog, except for the times when I wish to shine light on the cockroaches.) As Ritan1 put it:

While your grandparents may have lived through two world wars, they have also lived through the Great Depression, the era of Jim Crow, the Civil Rights Movement, the Women's movement, the Gay Rights movement. They have borne witness to the visions and the assassinations of JFK, RFK and Martin Luther King. They have watched as we dismantled the racism, sexism and homophobia of the past. If they learned hatred from the wars, shouldn't they have earned tolerance (in the best sense of that word) from the rest of history? If history is the excuse, then history does not support their bigotry.

And as Ruthless said, even more succinctly:

If your grandparents fought the Germans and Japanese in WWII and still make ethnic slurs, then they obviously didn't understand what they were fighting for. Anyone who fought the Nazis and then comes home and makes ethnic slurs against other Americans clearly doesn't "get it."

An only slightly less noxious, yet more illogical, argument was put forth by JT:

Your relatives have lived life and may have very valid reasons for their feelings as long as they are not acting out violently towards others they live in a free country (or at least it use to be) and are allowed to not only have these feelings, but openly express them. Remember the most protected from of speech is that which we don't want to hear.

First Amendment Fail, hon. Free speech doesn't mean the right to be listened to. If I choose not to allow racial slurs in my home, or profanity on my blog, or the word "Bumpit" on my Facebook page,* that is not an infringement on anyone's freedom of speech because I am not the government. (You'd know it if I were.) give peas a chance shot JT down nicely:

With that logic, wouldn't the letter writer's vocalization of disagreement with his/her elders be speech they (the elders) don't want to here, therefore - protected free speech? Free speech is an important right and should never be thrown around lightly as support for bigotry, racism or hatred.

Finally, Mark W. Freeman addressed the age issue:

I am 82; my wife is nearly as old. I certainly think no one should permit persons to speak in a bigoted way in his home, and should leave other places if such people will not stop. However, I resent the smug assumption on the part of so many Miss Conduct readers that "old people" are automatically prejudiced against certain ethnic groups and "young people" are usually not. That hasn't been my experience. Nor do I think that "lawyer" jokes are on a par with "n--- jokes." The only people my wife and I are bigoted against are bigots.

Excellent!

*Perhaps one of the worst product names ever, Bumpits became famous during the Palin candidacy as a possible explanation for Ms. Palin's half-bouffant. I don't know about you, but I never read that name as it was intended--Bump It--but rather as "Bum Pit," which sounds like a product designed to make your bum smell more like your pits, or vice versa, neither of which is a terribly appealing thought.