'Tis the season to be polite
With trembling fingers, I reached for the ringing telephone. Miss Manners was calling me, and I was nervous.
Wouldn't you be, dear reader? For 30 years, Judith Martin, a.k.a. Miss Manners, has been laying down the (iron) law on all matters pertaining to etiquette. She has used her syndicated column to enunciate an exacting code of proper social behavior. Woe betide those who violate that code, wittingly or not. So this was like getting a phone call from Jane Austen.
Now, I like to think I have good manners. As a kid, I had "please" and "thank you" and "you're welcome" drilled into me at home, with frequent reminders from the nuns at St. Bridget's School in Framingham. Nonetheless, as I picked up the receiver to speak to America's Stern Parent, I felt like I was 10 years old again. "Is this [Unrecognizable Name]?" said the voice on the other end of the line. Miss Manners was evidently looking at the wrong name on her call sheet. I identified myself. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said. Miss Manners, apologizing to me! What do you think of that, Sister Mary Anastasia?
But I didn't have the upper hand for long. Miss Manners began to project her aura of crisp command, and I began to stammer about how much I admire her. Eventually, I got around to my seasonal query for her.
The holidays are bearing down upon us. It is a time of family togetherness, like it or not. And for many kids, the answer is: "Not." The close-order drills of family get-togethers can make them feel restive rather than festive. Buddy and Sis are likely to find themselves across the dinner table from annoying Aunt Esmeralda or blustering Uncle Bob or weird cousin Cindy. Given the social minefield the holidays can become, I asked Miss Manners, should parents view this as a teaching moment, a chance to impart some lasting etiquette lessons?
"For good parents, life is a teaching moment," she informed me. "Which does not mean they have to be haranguing children all the time. But children want to know what to expect and how to behave in ways that don't offend other people. The worst advice in the world is: 'Just be yourself.' Who else would you be?"
Ah, that's the Miss Manners I know and love. Still, I pressed on, and she acknowledged that, yes, the holidays do represent a golden opportunity, etiquette-wise. "It is, absolutely, from teaching respect and tolerance for people you disagree with, to how to give and accept a present, to expressing gratitude, to reciprocity, hospitality, how to be a guest, how to be a host," she said.
Speaking of "how to give and accept": In recent years, families and friends have adopted short cuts through the onerous chore of gift-buying - and Miss Manners is not pleased.
"I see this as a time for rethinking the entire question of giving presents," she declared. "It's grown into the swapping of shopping lists. People are selecting their own presents! The elements of thought that go into gift-giving have been ridiculed out of existence. Perhaps the economic situation will make people stop and think about what one or two things would really please the other person, instead of saying, 'Give me your list, and I'll give you mine,' which makes a joke out of the whole idea of giving presents."
Now that I had Miss Manners fully engaged, I thought I might get her considered opinion of a pet peeve of mine. Over the next few weeks, I will venture into department stores to do some Christmas shopping. After my purchases are rung up at the cash register, I will say "Thank you" to the cashier. The cashier, if he or she is under 25, will not say "You're welcome," but rather "No problem." I will walk away, grinding my teeth.
"It's one of those little changes that is not particularly graceful, because you had not intended to cause a 'problem,' " she said mildly. "You're thanking them. At the same time, I look at people's intentions. They simply haven't been taught to say 'You're welcome.' They don't intend to be rude."
I grunted noncommittally, but in truth I was taken aback by her laissez-faire attitude. Can it be that I am actually more hard-line than Miss Manners? Just call me . . . Mr. Manners. Fear my wrath.
Don Aucoin can be reached at aucoin@globe.com. 