10 things I love about Boston

You thought I'd forgotten about that, hadn't you? Of course I didn't. Number 7 on the list--

7. The O'Donnell bar mitzvah

I don't remember when or where I saw this, and sadly I don't have a picture. I only have the vivid memory of taking some little daytrip with Mr. Improbable, and driving past a synagogue which sported a sign outside listing the service times, and noting that this Saturday was the O'Donnell bar mitzvah.

The O'Donnell bar mitzvah! How I would have loved to have been invited. I'd have had to live on salad and lean meat for weeks afterward--I can't even compute how carbo-loaded a blend of Ashkenazi and Irish cuisine might be. I wonder how much of the ceremony was "O'Donnell" and how much "bar mitzvah"--was there Celtic as well as klezmer music? Did the bar mitzvah boy speak of his two cultures' history of oppression? Of their common love of language, wordplay, and argument?

I hope it was a good bar mitzvah. I'm sure it meant many things to the participants, and I hope part of what it meant to them is what it means to me. That diversity is more than cold-blooded "tolerance" or rote learning of this culture's customs, that culture's customs, in order not to give offense. That multiculturalism can be rooted in a deep engagement with our commonalities and differences. That we can maintain our integrity while still keeping ourselves open to growth and transformation. That O'Donnell can teach bar mitzvah something about what it means to be Jewish, and bar mitzvah can teach O'Donnell something about what it means to be Irish.

My Boston is not a melting pot in which differences fade away into a bland fondue (due respect to fondue). It is a salad in which the flavors and textures complement and comment on each other, each standing out, each part of the whole.

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Fast-er and the speed of light

It's always a challenge to integrate valued traditions with new technology. If just figuring out a proper e-mail salutation stresses you out, be glad you're not this guy--a Malaysian Muslim who will be in space during the final days of Ramadan. How do you know when you should do your five daily prayers when you're orbiting the earth? And how do you figure out which way Mecca is?

According to news reports, a team of Islamic scholars worked to help answer these questions, and published the first religious-practice guide for Muslims in space. I think a bigger problem for Sheikh Muszaphar Shukor might be fighting off the ladies when he returns home. In addition to being a doctor and astronaut, Sheikh Shukor is also a part-time model who practices yoga and meditation. What a cutie!

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Looking for medical, environmental questions

We've got a couple of special issues of the magazine coming up, and I'm hoping to get questions on the following topics--

Medical. Wondering how to politely request the good phlebotomist at your doctor's office, instead of getting stuck with (and by) Jabb-ya the Hutt? How to deal with a chatty hygienist (okay, we've already had that one, but that's the kind of thing we're looking for)? How and when to offer assistance to the disabled person in your office? The thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to give rise to a thousand-and-one etiquette dilemmas. Send yours in to missconduct@globe.com today!

Environmental. We're also doing a special "green" issue, so I'm looking for any questions on environmental etiquette. How to approach a co-worker who doesn't recycle--the finer points organizing a swap party--anything dealing with the clean & green, let's have it!

You can send your questions to missconduct@globe.com. Thanks, everyone, for helping me with these special requests!

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The last Ig post, for real this time

Would you like to see what Miss Conduct will not do with a man on videotape?

This is what Miss Conduct will not do with a man. On videotape.

(Video credit to David Kessler, master of archaic weaponry and office supplies.)

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Tea, stop!

I really should start claiming my herbal-tea expenditures as a tax deduction; I get so much good copy from it. Today's bag tag reads, "Life is a flow of love; your participation is requested."

Nice use of the semicolon, but ewww! I don't really need to be sexually harassed by a cup of Digestive Ginger first thing in the morning. I'm flattered by the offer, D.G., but I'll be keeping my "flow of love" to myself, thanks.

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Blasting the past

The stereotype of the etiquette columnist is of someone who adores formality and tradition and yearns to return to a more gracious age. Not so much over here--and this article in today's Globe describes the resurgence of a practice that definitely ought to be left to molder in history's dustbin.

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The last Ig post

This year's Ig Nobel Medicine Prize went to Brian Witcombe, a U.K. physician, and Dan Meyer, an American sword swallower, for their co-authored medical report "Sword Swallowing and Its Side Effects."

Dr. Witcombe began their joint acceptance speech, and Mr. Meyer finished it, thus:

(In the background are shocked Nobel laureates William Lipscomb, Robert Laughlin, and Dudley Herschbach, and an alarmingly gleeful Nancy Featherstone, wife of Don Featherstone, inventor of the plastic yard flamingo. Photo credit: Alexey Eliseev.)

Sword swallowing is not a trick, or fake. It takes about two to seven years of daily practice to learn, and if done improperly--heck, sometimes even when done properly--can lead to serious injuries.

The photo above is from Thursday night's ceremony, and the sword Mr. Meyer is swallowing was about 18" long. At the Informal Lectures at MIT on Saturday afternoon, he swallowed one that was over two feet long--I forget the exact length, but it was going to go all the way down and touch his duodenum before he removed it.

Except he had no intention of removing it. A volunteer was going to do that. Mr. Improbable declined the honor and put me forth instead. Mr. Meyer told me to pull it out fast, but not too fast, and in a completely straight line. We had just heard a five-minute presentation by Dr. Witcombe on the sorts of gruesome things that could happen in sword-swallowing accidents. (Trust me, you don't want to know what happened to the sword-swallowing belly dancer when some moron decided to put money in her garter while she had a sword down her throat.)

My hands started shaking. About two hundred people were watching us. And I said, "No, I can't do it," and sat down.

Mr. Improbable had already introduced me as Miss Conduct, and I agree that a photo of Miss Conduct triumphantly withdrawing a sword from a man's mouth and waving it aloft like a 21st century King Arthur would have been pretty darned keen. But if I was going to be up there representin' the Miss Conduct values, I thought it was important to show that you are allowed to trust your instincts, to be uncool, to go against social pressure if it's something you are uncomfortable with.

Yeah, I wish my hands and nerves were steady enough to have done it. But I'm glad that I felt grounded enough in myself to say no.

Oh, and that leopard-print dress? I realized I could take it to the tailor's and have it hemmed up to be a knee-length jumper that I will actually wear, rather than a frankly louche evening gown that I don't.

Because we have choices. We can act rather than react. We can say yes or no. We can alter dresses and circumstances. All it takes is the ability to take a moment to breathe and consider what we want, what we believe in, what we think we can do and what we know we cannot.

UPDATE: As usual, the Onion sums up what I was trying to say, more amusingly and poetically: Karate Lessons Give Child Self-Confidence to Quit Karate.

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Last Wednesday's chat transcript

... is online here.

One topic that came up was joint birthday parties for siblings. Should the invite make it clear that both Sean and Cody are celebrating, or should invites to Sean's friends only mention him, and those to Cody's, likewise? It's a bit of a dilemma. Longtime chatter Mansfield Mom e-mailed me post-chat to explain how it's worked in her 'hood:

The invitations that I've received for Sibling Birthday Parties are worded as though they are only for one child. So, as the party attendee, I don't realize that it's actually a party for 2 children until I get there & see that there are 2 cakes or one cake with both names, etc. So there I am, with my one gift for the one child. Like I said, the first time it was a little weird and all of us mommies were wondering if we had misread our invitation. But now the idea has taken off and everyone seems to be getting the gist of it.

I do hope the trend continues. The birthday party thing is out of control. I'm glad to see that parents are beginning to think more practically and economically.

Those of you who prefer childish humor to children may be more interested in this excerpt:

jb: what's a good way to pick your nose?

Robin_Abrahams: I've never had cosmetic surgery myself, but I imagine surgeons can show you a computerized version of yourself with different "styles." Some beauty shops can do that, so I'm sure doctors can. Anyway, get something that's proportionate with the rest of your face, and ethnically plausible--bring a friend along for a second opinion. You want to avoid the Michael Jackson look at all costs.

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