It's been quiet in the old neighborhood since the rock band next door moved away. Miss Manners, who always hoped they would go on to fame and fortune sooner rather than later, wished them well and was sorry to hear that such had not come to pass.

She would have felt dreadful had she in any way contributed to their musical demise. But it appeared that the sole responsibility for that went to rock fans.

The contrary is true, according to the band member who went on to what only journalists such as he and she think of as glory, namely a career as a critic. He credits her with "saying the nicest thing anyone has ever uttered about the group: 'Turn it down, please.'"

There were other things she might have said. Miss Manners' household and visitors, whose hearing has been ruined by listening to opera to the point where they can't appreciate amplification, were full of suggestions:

"Call the police."

"Burn the house down."

"Wagner. At full pitch. Until they scream for mercy."

Aside from that last cruel threat, this is the sort of solution Miss Manners hears all the time from Gentle Readers who are bothered by neighborhood noise, dogs, leaves, children and competition for parking space. They have qualms about their fantasies of retaliation, or they wouldn't write to her for alternatives, but they confess that those would give them the satisfaction they crave.

She understands. Polite is not the opposite of human. Just because Miss Manners behaves perfectly, it doesn't mean that she is untroubled by temptation.

The greatest temptation arrived by chance, when police arrived of their own accord as Miss Manners was entertaining guests at dinner, and reported that the house next door had been robbed in the tenants' absence. The locks had been broken, and instructions were left for the returning tenants not to investigate, but to call the police from Miss Manners' house.

"Now's our chance," the guests said, more or less in unison, after the police had departed the neighborhood. "Let's all go over, quick, and throw out all the instruments. They'll think it was the robbers."

To the disappointment of all, Miss Manners refused to grab her shawl and lead them grandly into larceny. Etiquette has ways of settling things that are less fun but more effective. Its policy, like that of any sensible government, is to try diplomacy before declaring war.

And, indeed, that was what worked. Rather than mount a hostile attack, she left a note with that simple request and the hope that it would not be too much of an inconvenience.

They turned out to be people of good will, as Miss Manners suspects most neighbors are. It is being subjected to major reprisals for annoyances they may not be aware of causing that causes them to behave as badly -- well, as badly as the counter-attackers did on purpose.

In this case, accommodations were reached, and everyone lived in peace; when they left, Miss Manners was sorry to see them go.

The house is now occupied by people with similar musical tastes, but whose neighborliness taught even Miss Manners a lesson. Before giving the occasional party, they always leave her a note with their telephone number and instructions to please call if the noise disturbs her.

Miss Manners does not call. She prefers to bask in the idea that such nice people are enjoying themselves. And she is busy in her own house, insisting that the Valkyrie turn it down, please.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: While we were enjoying the hot tub with my friends, the host introduced us to new neighbors who joined us. They then proceeded to complain about life in general, especially how people with physical disabilities shouldn't be allowed in their expensive health club because they are a turnoff.

The silence was deadly when I asked to be lifted from the hot tub because of both legs being paralyzed. My wife left in tears.

Should the host have told her neighbors of my condition, or should I have interrupted her by saying I am handicapped?

GENTLE READER: What should have happened here is that the neighbors, and not your wife, should have gone home in tears.

Otherwise, Miss Manners cannot see how this unfortunate event could have been prevented. To "warn" someone of your disability would be insulting to any decent person, which presumably your host had no inkling that his neighbor is not. And you made the point more effectively than by simply saying so.

Miss Manners is deeply sorry that you were embarrassed, but hopeful that everyone else present learned from the incident.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: Many years ago, I made a professional mistake, which was very public, cost me a career, and has cast a long shadow since. My error arose from honest miscalculation without bad intent. However, others in the organization were glad to use me as a shield to cover up their bad intent and preserve themselves.

I said little at the time, attempting to accept my responsibility for this situation (and because of overblown feelings of guilt). I might add that I received support from kind, thinking people who understood the situation because they were in a position to know the facts.

I am passed by some people without even the trappings of civility, such as "hello" or "how are you?" After 20 years, may I abandon my brief factual answer to the transparent question, "What are you doing now?" Long ago, I concluded this was simply grapevine fare; now I feel that my prescription on forbearance has run out, and I am inclined to say, gently, "Thank you for your interest" and remove myself.

I would like to find some elegant way to ask these people to give it a rest.

GENTLE READER: You may find this a relief, or it may gall you even more, but Miss Manners feels obliged to tell you that after 20 years, most people don't remember exactly why they are cutting you.

She can assure you that the only people to whom the case is still vivid are the ones who were guilty themselves. Others, who went along with the snub originally because the consensus was against you, are now just doing it out of habit.

Do you want to stir them up so that they feel they have to justify themselves? That is what any sort of a reprimand, no matter how elegant, would do. Predisposed to think you bad in some vague way, they would now remember you as the person who embarrassed them.

If you want the ban to end, you must act as if it already had. Miss Manners realizes it will be difficult to make friendly overtures to people who have been snubbing you, but she begs you to try. If you steel yourself to say a friendly hello, and to answer questions about what you are doing as if they were no more than idle conversation -- which, indeed, they may well be -- you will signal to people that the social punishment for whatever it is that happened is over.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: A great-uncle, retired and known to be monetarily generous, was invited to his great-niece's bridal shower. She came from out of state for the shower, inviting female guests whom she barely knew or not at all.

The gent attended and, shortly thereafter, the wedding was canceled. To date, about five months later, no presents have been returned.

The "couple" took a trip to Vegas after canceling the wedding. What does Miss Manners think of this disgusting set of affairs?

GENTLE READER: That the gent is never going to get his investment back.

However, Miss Manners prefers to think happy thoughts. She is therefore assuming that the trip was an attempt at reconciliation, and that the presents are being kept pending a decision to marry or to part.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: At a local ethnic festival, a popular event where I display my dog, an elderly gentleman always comes up and talks persistently for about an hour. The conversation does not relate to the festival or the dogs, and my efforts to move on to others, who are clearly waiting to speak to me, have not worked.

He is not in the least offensive other than for monopolizing my time, but I find myself becoming more and more tense as the time passes, and I cannot get free of him. Please suggest tactics to help me share my time with all the fairgoers.

GENTLE READER: Can't you just train your dog to tug at his leash and then tear off, taking you along with him, as you flash a smile of helpless apology at the poor old bore?

Failing that, Miss Manners is afraid that you will have to learn to pull yourself away. We all need to allot some time to tolerating inoffensive bores in the hope that others may tolerate us in our less scintillating moments, but there should be a limit.

When you reach yours, turn to the person who is waiting to speak to you, and repeat the gentleman's last remark as if you were drawing a third person into the conversation. Then you may begin a new topic with that person.

"Mr. Hound was just saying that the grocery stores no longer carry his favorite soup. What did you think of the judging this year?" Eventually, you can then excuse yourself from both of them without singling out the gentleman. Or, they can excuse themselves from you.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: When my husband and I got married, his parents refused to come to our wedding, never bothering to respond to our invitation. They also managed to convince several of his siblings not to attend. My husband expressed to each of them individually his desire for them to attend our wedding, but to no avail.

Now, 10 years have passed, and his youngest sister, who did not attend our wedding, has invited us to hers. I do not wish to attend, but my husband wishes to.

Since I have not spoken to my in-laws in 10 years, how do I act at the reception? Shall I avoid the receiving line altogether, or pass through it and pretend nothing is out of the ordinary? I personally do not wish to speak to either of them but want to act appropriately.

GENTLE READER: Appropriate to a wedding? Or to a feud?

It is not a good idea to attempt the two simultaneously, although many people make elaborate plans to do so. Miss Manners has yet to hear of anyone's having a social triumph playing the evil spirit at a wedding.

She urges you to pass through the receiving line with a smile and the refrain, "What a lovely wedding." Making it clear that you are attending this event under duress by snubbing the hosts is a bad idea. Should their guests notice, you will have furnished evidence to confirm their judgment of your own marriage. She doubts that this is the effect you had in mind.

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