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Chat Wednesday at noon!

Posted by Robin Abrahams May 14, 2013 02:17 PM

Today's column

Posted by Robin Abrahams May 12, 2013 10:08 AM

... is online here. It's a tribute to my mother, and the many things I've learned from her, including ...

Keep 'em guessing: My mother is a sweet little widow who goes to church every Sunday. She's also one of the tougher street kids ever to scratch her way out of Depression-era Queens. She gets an enormous kick out of playing against type. Which is how I learned that to get people to listen to you, you have to keep changing it up. Paradoxes intrigue. Critical questions are most startling when phrased simply. A double-entendre is never more hilarious than from a devout Christian. And everyone from Jesus to Johnny Cash knows that sinners' prayers are sweetest.

Hell in a Handbasket? Ford Hall Forum Thursday

Posted by Robin Abrahams May 8, 2013 08:55 AM
I'll be moderating a Ford Hall Forum on "The Decline of Taboos" tomorrow night at the C. Walsh Theatre in Beacon Hill. The event is free and open to the public. From the website:
 
Not long ago, we lived in a world where cursing was verboten, only sailors had tattoos, and smoking marijuana was confined to college experimentation. Are these things really more prevalent today or were they acceptable long before they reached the puritanical eyes of American society? And if they are met with less disdain these days, is it because we're a more accepting society or because this is the beginning of a backslide into a social world rife with slovenly self-conduct? Moderator Robin Abrahams (author, "Miss Conduct" etiquette column) talks with Melissa Mohr (author, Holy Sh*t: A Brief History of Swearing), Margot Mifflin (author, Bodies of Subversion: A Secret History of Women and Tattoo), and Bill Downing (former President, MassCANN/NORML) to determine whether we can let it all hang out or if crossing the line is a harbinger of societal disaster.
Doesn't that sound fun? Weed, tats, and cussin'! Join us tomorrow night at 6:30 for what is sure to be a lively discussion.

Today's column

Posted by Robin Abrahams May 5, 2013 11:08 AM
... is online here. In Which Miss Conduct Suspect a Couple May Have an Incompatibility:
 
Is he the logical, task-oriented sort while you tend to be more socially motivated? A lifetime of experience has taught me that such mismatched relationships can often be quite happy. Two warnings, though, to keep your differences productive rather than destructive. One, recognize your differences as such. It's not always a question of one party or the other being "wrong." Also, even if your sweetheart is Mr. Business and you're Miss Pleasure, you shouldn't take on one hundred percent of the role of social director and emotional connection-maker. It's an easy dynamic to fall into, particularly for straight couples where the woman is the social butterfly. But to do so erodes the social skills and emotional support network of the, er, social caterpillar in the couple
.

Friday(ish) roundup: Performance, Anxiety Edition

Posted by Robin Abrahams May 4, 2013 04:37 PM

In February, in dear-God-we-were-so-young-then February, I dared to write that 2013 was shaping up to be a mad, immoderate, lurchy year. Obviously, I wasn't to know the half of it.

Can I blame the crazy end-times feeling of the year for the feeling I have, too, of constantly pinballing from one deadline or bout of illness or major trip (his, mine, or ours) to the next? Or is that just life, the thing that happens while you're making other plans? I pointed out to a friend recently that she "has it all" more than any woman I know. And she laughed and conked her head on the table and said "Dear God" like I knew she would, like any of us would, even though she's a wise and grateful person and knows that she has a wonderful life: a good marriage, smart loving kids, a fulfilling part-time career, weekends full of art and science and family projects. And of course she feels like she's running around putting out fires and satisfying completely irrational demands and thinking about the next three tasks on her to-do list instead of the one she's actually doing.

Even the most meaningful and dignified life probably feels absurd a good deal of the time.

Some days I'm not sure if pushing back against that feeling of absurdity is the right path or not. Is it striving for greater mindfulness, or striving to look like a woman in a coffee commercial? 

Chat today at noon!

Posted by Robin Abrahams May 1, 2013 07:32 AM

Today's column

Posted by Robin Abrahams April 28, 2013 11:55 AM

... is online here. It's about bullies (the grownup, "I was just kidding" variety). A sample:

People seem to think that this is a social juncture where having a witty comeback would do them no end of good. Perhaps it would, in a placebo confidence-boosting sort of way; some people might only feel comfortable speaking up if they believed their words to be unimpeachable. But you don't need a witty comeback when a dog decides to hump your leg. All you need is a command voice and the will to use it.

Friday(ish) roundup: That Was the Week That Was Edition

Posted by Robin Abrahams April 27, 2013 07:51 AM
I went through this week in something of a daze, still not sure that the events of the week before really happened. Did you? Something about the weird containment of the events within the week itself--from the bombing Monday afternoon to the capture Friday evening--made it seem dreamlike. 

Last Thursday night, I came home from rehearsal, made a cup of tea, and prepared to settle in for a few hours' work on an editing project for my HBS job. When the shootout happened I traded tea for coffee and stayed up for the rest of the night, following the action online--and listening to the sirens and explosions from our Cambridge apartment. I watched the city wake up to the news, and saw the weird, stilted day begin. Around 9, I went back to bed and slept for five hours or so. And then woke, and watched. 

And as soon as they caught the guy, I went to Shaw's and bought a box of eclairs and ate four of them and the only reason I didn't eat five was that Mr. Improbable--who hates sweets--scarfed one down. (Will the person who accused me of fad dieting because I avoid bread please take note.) What did you eat after they captured Dzhokar? According to my Facebook feed, Boston was eating its feelings, along with anything else it could get hold of. 

All my life I have loved stories of wanderers, literal or metaphorical--those who are born out of place and must find their true home. Boston is my home. Sixteen years ago I arrived on a train like a girl in a musical, and last week among all the fear and anger and sorrow there was a deep stab of joy at seeing my love, my Boston, put into words so beautifully by others. Dennis Lehane in the New York Times:
 
But I do love this city. I love its atrocious accent, its inferiority complex in terms of New York, its nut-job drivers, the insane logic of its street system. I get a perverse pleasure every time I take the T in the winter and the air-conditioning is on in the subway car, or when I take it in the summer and the heat is blasting. Bostonians don't love easy things, they love hard things -- blizzards, the bleachers in Fenway Park, a good brawl over a contested parking space. Two different friends texted me the identical message yesterday: They messed with the wrong city. This wasn't a macho sentiment. It wasn't "Bring it on" or a similarly insipid bit of posturing. The point wasn't how we were going to mass in the coffee shops of the South End to figure out how to retaliate. Law enforcement will take care of that, thank you. No, what a Bostonian means when he or she says "They messed with the wrong city" is "You don't think this changes anything, do you?"
And in a similar but more profane and hilarious vein, Jim Dowd:
 
This place gave us Leonard Nimoy and Mark Walberg. Southie and Cambridge. Brookline and Brockton. This place will kick the screaming piss out of you, come up with a cure for having the screaming piss kicked out of you, give it to you for free, then win a Nobel prize for it and then use the medallion to break your knuckles. See what I'm talking about?
This civic pride was more than justified by our behavior last Friday, which is why I was infuriated by the Arkansas senator, and similar yammerers, who saw Boston as an example of anything other than serious-minded people doing a big job in a thorough way. Some of my Facebook posts on the topic:

My response to Nate Bell's "apology" to the citizens of Massachusetts: "Your apology is not accepted. May God Himself accept your declaration of moral, intellectual, and rhetorical bankruptcy." 
I'm angry at some of the right-wing characterizations of Boston's actions yesterday. This was not martial law. Nobody was "cowering" in their homes. The lockdown was a request that we were happy to comply with, because it was the most useful thing 99% of us could do. Bostonians damn well know how to lead, follow, or GET OUT OF THE WAY. Yes, we shut down the city for the day and took the economic hit. If God forbid something like this happens AGAIN, we'll decide to what extent we want to follow this model subsequently. No, it doesn't mean any 19-year-old with a grudge can drive the city to a halt any time he wants. It means we take sh*t SERIOUSLY in this town. Any mistakes we made on this? We'll learn from. Don't you worry. 
I've noted for a long time that Boston "rudeness" is actually a particular code of etiquette, one based on respect for the *goals* (rather than the feelings or personal space) of other people. To some degree, the disjunct between what we felt yesterday, and what the rest of the nation perceived, reflects that difference in etiquette. Bostonians show respect by *providing information* and *getting out of each others' way*. The last time we confused the nation this badly was during the Democratic National Convention in 2004, when we politely exited the city en masse to let the conventioneers have it to themselves. Not everyone's definition of hospitality, it turned out.
But I think Miss Conduct's final word on the lockdown will have to be this:

Another thing people outside Boston may not understand: We routinely drive, bicycle, and traverse our public roadways like utter maniacs. In order to free up sufficient first-response police and medical personnel, we could either learn decent manners overnight, or stay home. We made the right choice.

Today's column

Posted by Robin Abrahams April 21, 2013 09:58 AM

... is online here. It's a three-fer! Here's question (and answer) number two:

How does one respond to colleagues who say "You shouldn't have" when you give them a small gift as a thank you, get well, or going away present?

B.W. / Reading

You say this: "Of course we 'had to.' What kind of terrible people wouldn't [reward a job well done/bring a sick person a plant/honor your long years of service]? Now say 'Thank you' and [open your present/get well/let?s all go out for a drink]!"

Got it? People who say "You shouldn't have" feel uncomfortable being the center of attention. So you give Wally Wallflower a gentle shake to remind him that, comfortable or not, he is the center of attention on account of his brilliant job on the Macguffin account or his broken leg or imminent retirement, and the rest of you are responding appropriately. Then you feed him his next line ("Thank you!"), just like a stage manager would.

Friday Roundup: Sheltering in Place Edition

Posted by Robin Abrahams April 19, 2013 05:15 PM

My synagogue cancelled service tonight. I support this decision, but I know it cannot have been made easily. The symbolism is painful.

But if I am going to be a Jew hiding in my house, I am glad to be a Jew hiding in my house with my city, not from them.

All my life I have loved stories of wanderers who find their home. Boston is my home.

I love you. Be safe. Shabbat Shalom.

Feeding foodies--another hostly paradox

Posted by Robin Abrahams April 15, 2013 10:51 AM

Last week I blogged about suggestions from chatters for the problem of feeding foodies: what to do when you want to entertain people whose cooking skills and food savvy far exceed your own.

Here's another dinner-guest-having problem that occurred to me this weekend: Do you feel socially obligated to offer friends fancier/more indulgent food than you yourself normally eat? I don't usually eat bread, for example, nor do most of my friends--but if I'm having my homegirls over for dinner, even the most ardently low-carb of the Fabulous Bureaucrats, I will put bread on the table. Because you're entertaining, it's what you do. Also, dessert.

I'm trying to move away from this, and cook for guests the way I cook for Mr. Improbable and myself--simple healthy food, which I'm actually pretty good at. But there's still a part of me--that raised-in-the-Midwest-in-the1970s-part, I suppose--that feels that "company food" ought to be indulgent, buttery fare. How about you?

Today's column

Posted by Robin Abrahams April 14, 2013 10:59 AM
... is online here. The first question deals with a friend who has given an ultimatum--either stop socializing with my ex-wife, or I'm outtie. My thoughts on ultimatum-givers:
 
[W]hen a person pulls the "me-or-X" routine, then as healthy individuals with boundaries and all that good stuff, you really ought to think about sticking with X. Why? Because X isn't trying to control your lives. 
Sometimes, of course, X is in fact trying to control your life. If X is an addiction or an abusive family member or an illness you refuse to address, then "It's me or X!" coming from a friend or partner invested in your well-being should be a wake-up call. But in those situations, "Me" is trying to save you--not him- or herself--from "X."
Have you ever had to pull an "It's me or X" ultimatum? Ever had one pulled on you? 

Later this month, I'll be reviewing Lionel Shriver's new novel, Big Brother, for Already Pretty. From the publisher's description: 

For Pandora, cooking is a form of love. Alas, her husband, Fletcher, a self-employed high-end cabinetmaker, now spurns the "toxic" dishes that he'd savored through their courtship, and spends hours each day to manic cycling. Then, when Pandora picks up her older brother Edison at the airport, she doesn't recognize him. In the years since they've seen one another, the once slim, hip New York jazz pianist has gained hundreds of pounds. What happened? After Edison has more than overstayed his welcome, Fletcher delivers his wife an ultimatum: It's him or me.

Ms. Shriver is one of my favorite novelists--always surprising, always energetic. This book sounds like it will be a kind of Miss Conduct literary perfect storm!

Friday(ish) roundup: Who Can Say What When Edition

Posted by Robin Abrahams April 13, 2013 10:23 AM
It's been a gaffe-prone week. President Obama should stop complimenting anything--matzoh, attorneys general--until he learns how to do it right. Jezebel's Lindy West has a good (if someone profane) set of instructions for men here on how to properly compliment women. If you have a hard time with that kind of thing. Which, really, you shouldn't. 

(A general protip on compliments of all sorts: Compliment what people do, not what they are. This is particularly the case with kids, where it's much better to praise hard work than to say "you're so smart.")

Complaints as well as compliments get thrown around carelessly. Susan Silk and Barry Goldman wrote in the LA Times about the "Ring Theory" of complaining during crises: Dump out, comfort in:
 
Draw a circle. This is the center ring. In it, put the name of the person at the center of the current trauma. For Katie's aneurysm, that's Katie. Now draw a larger circle around the first one. In that ring put the name of the person next closest to the trauma. In the case of Katie's aneurysm, that was Katie's husband, Pat. Repeat the process as many times as you need to .... When you are done you have a Kvetching Order. One of Susan's patients found it useful to tape it to her refrigerator. 
Here are the rules. The person in the center ring can say anything she wants to anyone, anywhere. She can kvetch and complain and whine and moan and curse the heavens and say, "Life is unfair" and "Why me?" That's the one payoff for being in the center ring. Everyone else can say those things too, but only to people in larger rings.
la-oe-0407-silk-ring-theory-20130407-001.gif(illustration by Wes Bausmith for the LA Times)

My father of blessed memory taught me this lesson during his first bout with cancer. When I complained of feeling helpless because I couldn't do anything, he gently replied, "Robin, I can't do anything about it either, and it's my cancer."

Feeding foodies: A mediocrevore's guide

Posted by Robin Abrahams April 10, 2013 07:48 AM
This topic came up on last week's chat, and I wanted to pull it out for further discussion because everyone had such great ideas and insights. Chatter Not Julia wrote, 

Do you have any tips for dealing with foodies, or food snobs? I have several friends who are great, locavore, state-of-the-art cooks and I'd like to reciprocate by having them over. But I'm not as accomplished as they are. It's not that they complain, it's more my anxiety over not having the best ingredients, techniques, etc. I try to keep it simple, but then it doesn't seem like I've done enough. How can I make these evenings go more smoothly and pleasantly without getting a certificate from the Culinary Institute? 

My first response was "Wine and lots of it," and while I stand by that suggestion (which Not Julia thought was just the ticket, in fact), my more, er, sober analysis was as follows:

Figure one or two dishes that you can make well, and that people like eating. Then, when you entertain, serve those. Whether you are entertaining a king or a ... cabbage. (Wait, that's not a real phrase, is it?) Eating at some people's houses is a great culinary experience. Eating at other people's houses is a great conversational experience. If you don't have a huge amount of faith in your cooking, it only has to be good enough not to detract from the conversation. And people really don't mind knowing that an invitation to Not Julia's place means Moroccan Chicken again. (It helps them pick out a wine to bring.) Look how many people order the same entree every time they go to a restaurant, after all! Foodies also appreciate that sometimes the food is just the activity that brings people together. It doesn't have to be the star of the show. If I'm talking with old friends or exciting new ones, or listening to excellent music, or playing an engaging game ... hey, crackers and cheese are just great. 

Many chatters backed up the notion that NJ should breathe and relax, that the point is hospitality itself and even foodies enjoy a night off kitchen duty:

  • Eating and not having to do dishes, the best experience! sponica 
  • A peanut butter and jelly sandwich always tastes better when someone else makes it! Daisy  
  • What you are doing that is special is inviting them into your home -- the rest is details. Carolyn 
  • I think uber-chefs are almost more like performers -- they love an appreciative audience. So applaud their own performances, but don't feel you have to put on your own one-woman show. bubu 

Others advised keeping it simple:

  • Buy really good, high-end ingredients that they will be impressed with, but then make a really simple recipe with them. Tony 
  • Also with summer approaching you can do a lot with a nice spread of cheeses (local or not) and good breads, seasonal produce, olives, etc. Foodies appreciate good food, regardless of how much work you put into it. bubu 
  • I know this is super cliche, but if they're really friends they won't care. But, try something new to please their taste buds, and they'll be touched by the gesture. Also, it's really easy to get some nice meats and/or cheeses set up. Olives too. If you can, go to a higher end grocery store and talk to the employees about their recommendations. Elizabeth 

And a couple of folks got creative: 

  • If you have a certain ethnic heritage and related specialty, you could make that -- or even takeout from a cool local ethnic place. Foodies often are just really culinarily curious, so anything new or unusual will intrigue. Your Name 
  • Have a pasta making party - let the cooks cook. You provide ingredients and make a couple of sauces ahead of time. Serve prosecco while hanging the pasta! Daisy

What's your advice? How do you handle hospitality when your guests' cooking skills are far above your own? 

Fumes of love are in the air

Posted by Robin Abrahams April 9, 2013 10:08 AM

A reader sends in this amusing anecdote:

I was riding the red- line from Quincy Adams to Park Street at 6:30 pm on 4/6/13. There were many announcements over the intercom regarding no smoking on the train.

Sitting across from me was a young clueless self- absorbed non smoking woman who thought it was fine to give herself a manicure on the train with noxious smelling purple nail polish. It was making me nautious - to avoid regurgitation or passing out on the train I told her to kindly desist - which (by fair reporting standards - she promptly did). The post office doesn't allow folks to mail nail polish - the MBTA should not allow folks to use or open noxious substances on the train - they should post and announce those rules.

However I may have started a romance when a scrawny pubescent rock star wannabe in black glasses, black clothing, and a black guitar case - told the oblivious young woman that he LIKED feeling dizzy from the odor - "it did not bother HIM" - and told me - a fiftysomething woman - to 'shut up' - perhaps they will exchange phone numbers - mate - and spawn ill mannered children whom - I hope - will not be subjected to toxic fumes and dissonant music.

Now I feel better.

Today's column

Posted by Robin Abrahams April 7, 2013 11:26 AM

... is online here. It's kind of a festival of people who can't express their emotions openly.

Friday(ish) roundup: Jo-Jo Lamotte Edition

Posted by Robin Abrahams April 6, 2013 03:03 PM

Sorry for the slow posting week, folks. Mr. Improbable has been on tour since March 1st, and like Mrs. Obama, I'm beginning to feel like a busy single mother. And I don't even have children.

I do, however, have a bouncing baby project to share: I'll be playing the role of Jo-Jo Lamotte in the Belmont Dramatic Club's production of "Agatha Christie Made Me Do It," April 26-28. It's a comic murder mystery about a young heir who wakes up after a bender married to two women: Annie, who works in a chocolate factory, and Jo-Jo, a nightclub dancer.

Community theater being what it is, actors are asked to bring their own costumes if possible. The show is set in 1978, and my friends, it is truly impressive how many outfits I have that could plausibly be worn by an off-duty stripper in the 70s. (For the audition, I wore a black silk kimono over black velvet lounge pants and tank, leopard-print platform heels and a wide leopard-print headband. Very Joanne Worley. I did not anticipate getting lost on the way to the Belmont Town Hall and having to stop at a gas station for directions.)

I'll be posting more about the show as rehearsals go on. In the meantime, mark your calendars! Tickets are $18 and despite my character's profession, it's family-friendly G-rated silliness all the way (think "Carol Burnett Show" sketch).

A moment of social science: Priming refers to the way information you already active in your mind affects the way you make sense of any new information you get. Exactly how priming works and under what conditions is still unclear, but it's definitely a thing. Driving to rehearsal Thursday night, I was singing along to the radio in Jo-Jo's voice and trying to remember my Act II blocking. The car in front of me had a bumper sticker in the religious-symbol-font style more often seen with COEXIST.


Tolerance-Bumper-Sticker-(7103).jpg

Robin would have read that as TOLERANCE. Jo-Jo read it as POLEDANCE.

Chat Wednesday at noon!

Posted by Robin Abrahams April 2, 2013 12:43 PM

Today's column

Posted by Robin Abrahams March 31, 2013 12:07 PM

... is online here. The first letter was originally much longer and detail-ridden in that way that indicates a fair amount of suppressed freaking-out-ness. I think it got cut a little too much for readers to get that. Believe me, when I say the LW sounded "thin of skin and frayed of nerves," she really did.

In letter #2 I got to cite one of my favorite quotes, from Thackeray's Vanity Fair:

"By humbly and frankly acknowledging yourself to be in the wrong, there is no knowing, my son, what good you may do. I knew once a gentleman . . . who used to do little wrongs to his neighbours on purpose, and in order to apologise for them in an open and manly way afterwards--and what ensued? My friend Crocky Doyle was liked everywhere, and deemed to be rather impetuous--but the honestest fellow."

Continuing in a literary vein, here is a small art project I made to welcome Mr. Improbable home from a trip once:

pepys.gif

Happy Easter, Christians! Happy continued Passover, Jews! Happy Spring, everyone!

Friday roundup: Oy, Freedom Edition

Posted by Robin Abrahams March 29, 2013 07:37 PM
Who else saw the clip of President Obama saying "That's some good matzoh" in his recent trip to Israel (here on "The Daily Show")? It was a rare Michael Scott moment for a usually suave and authentic man. Just, no, Mr. President honey. We don't compliment the matzoh. Sheesh. It's called "the bread of affliction" for a reason. 

But of course, what do you say about the matzoh if you're not Jewish? You can't complain about the matzoh. It's not yours to complain about. 

It looks funny, from the outside, the way Jews complain about the matzoh, or about fasting on Yom Kippur. Why have so many holidays you don't enjoy? Crazy, right? No wonder we invented psychoanalysis. 

But after writing an advice column for eight years now, I see the brilliance of it. Holidays make people miserable. So you just kind of bake a little misery into a few of them. Good. Now we all know what to do with the inevitable unhappiness that accompanies the joy. 

No matter how much we love our families and friends, our homes and our churches or temples, our stories and our traditions, food and presents and parties, a holiday takes it out of a person. Everything becomes more intense: family dynamics, economic tensions, time pressures. And sometimes holidays come when you're fighting some private battle of your own, from a dissertation to a loved one's illness to an addiction, and you just don't feel like celebrating. 

Times like that, it's really nice to be able to bitch about the matzoh.

  matzoh.jpg
It's there, it's square, I'm used to it.
About Miss Conduct
Welcome to Miss Conduct’s blog, a place where the popular Boston Globe Magazine columnist Robin Abrahams and her readers share etiquette tips, unravel social conundrums, and gossip about social behavior in pop culture and the news. Have a question of your own? Ask Robin using this form or by emailing her at missconduct@globe.com.
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Who is Miss Conduct?

Robin Abrahamswrites the weekly "Miss Conduct" column for The Boston Globe Magazine and is the author of Miss Conduct's Mind over Manners. Robin has a PhD in psychology from Boston University and also works as a research associate at Harvard Business School. Her column is informed by her experience as a theater publicist, organizational-change communications manager, editor, stand-up comedian, and professor of psychology and English. She lives in Cambridge with her husband Marc Abrahams, the founder of the Ig Nobel Prizes, and their socially challenged but charismatic dog, Milo.

Need Advice?

Curious if you should say "bless you" to a sneezing atheist? How to host a dinner party for carbophobes, vegans, and Atkins disciples—all at the same time? The finer points of regifting? Ask it here, or email missconduct@globe.com.

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