DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am currently working on a research paper on the parental right to censor music. My question for you is, Should parents censor or monitor their children's listening habits? And, if so, how should they go about doing so?

GENTLE READER: Such a harsh word -- "censor." All freedom-loving people, even small ones, bristle when they hear it and rise to protect their liberties from those who would usurp them under the guise of benign paternalism.

But wait. Isn't benign paternalism what parents are supposed to provide? What else are they there for, besides providing the wherewithal to purchase disgusting music?

Miss Manners realizes that parents cannot hope to protect their children for long against outside influences, however nasty. The protection they can provide them is to teach them that there are other, higher standards, and that they subscribe to these and expect their children to do so.

Are the children actually going to do so? Of course not. But the parents can make rules against buying and bringing into the house what they consider to be vulgar or otherwise objectionable. They can also use the issue to discuss why they feel the way they do, thus making their resentful children aware that there are people -- including people they love and respect in spite of their differences in taste -- who maintain their own standards instead of succumbing to whatever is out there.

Will their rules and arguments be challenged, ridiculed and broken? Of course. That is why parents do need to do some reasonable monitoring.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: What, precisely, are the obligations of the host when the guest room is also the living room? In a one-bedroom apartment, there is often a disconnect between the host's sleeping schedule and that of the guest.

I'm starting to dread going to my dad's very small apartment. First of all, he won't go to bed until 1 a.m. or so. The apartment is so configured that the only place to put the air mattress is right in front of his chair, and that can't be done until he retires for the evening (and he's not willing to do that earlier because the television is in the living room).

It then takes me until 3 a.m. to drop off. He gets up at 9 or 10 a.m., which means I have to get up, too, because he wants to watch television.

GENTLE READER: It is Miss Manners' painful obligation to tell you that someone who is not concerned about whether his daughter gets a good night's sleep is not going to change his habits upon being told that hosts are indeed obligated to make their guests comfortable. If you are an adult, she urges you to stay elsewhere when visiting your father. If you are a minor, she hopes you will confide the arrangements to someone in a position to insist that he accommodate you properly, even if it means sacrificing some television.

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Because it is vulgar to adorn oneself with too many valuables, there has long been a rule cautioning ladies to protect themselves against the danger of looking flashy. Miss Manners learned it from her dear mother:

"When you believe you are perfectly dressed, and are quite satisfied with your appearance, before you go out, remove one piece of jewelry."

So that she would never forget, Miss Manners copied this rule onto the back of a photograph of Queen Alexandra, who is demurely pictured wearing five different diamond necklaces stacked as chokers, diamond drop earrings, two snake bracelets, nine brooches, five jeweled orders and a crown. At least that is all that is visible in this particular pose, which is only a three quarter view, and shows her turned slightly to the side. Presumably the jewels nestling on one shoulder are matched on the other, and there seems to be something glittery peeking out from under the arm in which she is carrying a jeweled fan.

Miss Manners has always wondered what it was that the dear lady removed.

The rule is just as good today as it was then, and probably just as faithfully followed. When today's ladies are dressed to face the world, they should check their appearance and remove one valuable object.

But what will it be?

The security identification on a chain around the neck? The telephone hitched onto the belt? The personal organizer sticking out of the jacket pocket?

Something's got to go, and the one earring that was taken off in order to answer the telephone doesn't count.

Miss Manners is not so much worried about ladies looking flashy as she is about their being overburdened. It seems that the more convenient and miniaturized a lady's necessaries become, the more things she has to pin or chain to her clothes.

In addition to the likelihood of resembling an electronic bulletin board, there is the danger of pitching forward from the weight. If shoulder bags and backpacks weren't required for everything a lady must haul but can't actually hang or pin on herself, they would still be needed for ballast.

Ladies didn't used to need security tags. But, of course, that was in days long past, as far back as six months ago. However, they had even more utilitarian objects to hang on themselves or their clothing:

Before the invention of the wristwatch, watches were worn on the lapel, hanging from little matching brooches, or as rings for the fingers. Eyeglasses might be attached to an elastic band to hang on their own brooch, or worn on a chain around the neck.

Also to be worn on the fingers were rings with tiny chains attached to clasps, to hold handkerchiefs, or to larger mesh circlets to hold gloves, or to tussy-mussies for holding nosegays.

Coin purses and key rings were made with short chains and hooks to fit on the belt. So were skirt lifters (for lifting the long skirt slightly above the ground when the street was messy; what did you think?).

Then there was the chatelaine, the wide brooch from which all sorts of miniaturized-but-useful things might dangle on chains: scissors, pencils, notebooks, stamp holders, needle cases, thimbles, pin holders, button hooks, pen knives, spoons, pill boxes, mirrors, perfume bottles, vinagrettes, nutmeg graters and boxes to hold beauty marks.

Presumably, a fastidious lady did not wear them all at the same time. Before she went out, she might have removed the stamp holder.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have never adjusted to the everyday assumed intimacy by acquaintances and strangers. When I am asked my first name, I find that answering "Mrs." is very helpful -- the other person will then ask for my last name and nothing more is said. This usually solves my problem and often brings a smile.

GENTLE READER: Is it possible that you and Miss Manners are related? She has never countenanced instant intimacy, either, preferring the voluntary kind; she also imparts this information gently to people who assume otherwise -- and she has the good fortune to bear the given name of Miss.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: What are my obligations to people knocking on my door? Most are solicitors or religious proselytizers, neither of whom I wish to speak to.

The only way to see who is there is by looking out the door's window. If the person sees me, do I then have to answer the door? I don't like opening the door to strangers. I can see the street, so I know if a police car or fire truck is out there.

If I do open the door, can I cut off their scripted speeches and say I'm not interested? Some are quite aggressive, even hostile. How polite must I be? Cutting someone off seems rude, but then, so does their imposition on me.

Neighbors sometimes knock also, and I don't always answer. How does one tell neighbors not to stop by unannounced without offending them, especially when they are stopping by with a small gift?

I may have let the neighbor situation go on too long to correct it now. Am I obligated to tell anyone that sometimes I don't answer the door? Must I always answer the door if I want to remain a member of (somewhat) polite society?

GENTLE READER: If Miss Manners says yes, it would mean that you would be rude in refusing to open the door when you saw a masked gunman. If she says no, it would mean that you would be polite in peering clearly at your neighbors and then walking away, leaving them standing on your doorstep holding flowers from their gardens or pies from their ovens.

Couldn't she get out of this by making you install side curtains and a peephole?

You don't have to answer the door at all if the caller does not see you and can therefore assume that you are either not home or occupied with something that prevents you from responding. You still don't have to answer the door for strangers, whether they are holding guns or Bibles or lottery winnings, and if they catch you looking or opening, you can cut them off by shaking your head and saying thank you.

But you do have to answer the door to callers you know who see you recognizing them. The saving grace is that you do not have to let them in. You can go into a flurry of gratitude and regret that you are frightfully busy just now and would love to see them at another time.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I share an apartment with one other woman who is good friends with a married couple whom I've also known socially for a long time, but am not as close to. We've entertained them informally once or twice, yet all their social invitations extended to her are extended only to her and do not include me.

Yes, they have a right to socialize on their own, and no, it's not analogous to what the situation would be if my housemate and I were related to one another instead of mere housemates. Still, it is hurtful, though I don't think they're aware of it. My housemate does not know I feel this way.

GENTLE READER: Do her friends?

Miss Manners agrees that these people might be remiss in not including you, but as there is too much sulking going on in the world, she would like you to consider another possibility. Maybe they don't know you are being a hostess, too. Maybe they think you're there when your friend invites them because of the location, rather than the company.

The way to indicate that you do want to be friends is to say how much you like them, rather than how left out you feel. It has a lot more charm.

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