We are about to celebrate a holiday that is dedicated to a word that sticks in many people's craws: "Thanks."

Whatever God might receive in the way of expressions of gratitude, the earthly pickings have become scarce.

This is because many people are extremely idealistic. They have explained to Miss Manners that generosity is a virtue that should be kept pure, and that people who expect to be thanked for presents or favors should feel ashamed of themselves for being selfish and unworthy.

A more practical argument comes from people on the receiving end who explain that they are simply too busy to issue thanks. They are not asking for shame from those who take the time to think about what might please them, and to acquire and send this, but for the sympathy that should flow from understanding of the importance of their time.

Miss Manners recommends taking pity on both sorts of no-thanks folks. They should be relieved of the burden of thanking by the simple measure of removing any cause for doing so. If necessary, one might explain to them that delicacy requires ceasing to shower them with attentions considering the likelihood that these are unwelcome. Without positive feedback, the sensitive donor should assume that the effort to please has failed.

She has no pity for those who turn on people who do thank -- who even thank them. Following their own theories, they should dismiss the thankers, along with their benefactors who expect thanks, as being of bad character or simply too unimportant to have better things to do.

Instead, they go after them, on the grounds that they are giving ingratitude a bad name. Here are some reports from Gentle Readers who have been chastised because they dared to thank:

"I was rather puzzled last Christmas when two of my older sisters requested that I not write them thank-you notes because it would make them feel guilty for not writing their own."

"I have gotten into the habit of sending thank-you notes since I reached adulthood, and wish to continue doing so for my engagement and wedding presents. When my mother discovered that this was my intention, she was furious. She says that I should thank the givers via telephone, that our friends and relatives will be at best confused and at worst insulted if I send written thanks instead, for I would be implying that I don't want to talk to them."

"A friend of ours asked me not to send her thank-you notes any longer for the Christmas gift she gives us each year. She said that she does not have time to send thank-you notes. I appreciate the time and effort that others spend in purchasing and giving us gifts and like to show my appreciation by sending thank-you cards but do not want to make her feel uncomfortable in any way."

Thanksgiving must be a rough day for the anti-thanks people. One should at least wish them a thankless Christmas.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My job involves meeting quite a few new people each week, getting to know them enough to understand what their technical requirements are, and then completing consulting assignments for them.

Lately, I seem to be surrounded by people who are chronic name droppers. If I don't seem impressed enough that they know the renowned Mr. So-and-so, they assume it's out of ignorance and stop their story to explain to me exactly how important he really is. My boss is among the worst offenders -- regularly coming into my office to share stories about the important people he knows.

Is there a gentle and polite way to move these people back to the subject at hand?

GENTLE READER: Yes, and don't stop now.

If there is one thing that drives name droppers wild, Miss Manners has noticed, it is failing to catch the names as they drop. You need only keep a polite show of mild interest on your face as you ask for explanations:

"Who did you say?"

"Is she famous?"

"Is that the new employee?"

"How do you spell that name?"

"I'm sorry, I don't watch much television, so you'll have to tell me who he is."

They soon discover that it takes all the fun out of name-dropping if they have to pick them up themselves.

:

DEAR MISS MANNERS: The hospital in which I work has instituted a new format for its identification badges. The wearer's first name is now presented in large, bold print, whereas the last name and degree, e.g., R.N. or M.D., are small and barely visible.

According to those responsible for this change, "the format on the system has been setup for all first names to be slightly larger to provide better visibility to the patient."

Why this needs be is a question begged. One wonders if the onerous, reciprocal transgression, that of health care workers addressing patients by their first names, has somehow exacted an ironical price.

GENTLE READER: Of course it has. Long after such inequality was abolished in other places of work -- where bosses had routinely demanded to be addressed formally while they called their employees, especially female employees, by their first names -- doctors continued to get away with it. Miss Manners is only surprised that patients took this lying down for so long.

The situation needed to be rectified, but, unfortunately the method used, in your hospital and elsewhere, is not to grant titles of respect to all, but to grant them to none. The real price paid here is in dignity.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Nowadays, it's common for friends to trade Internet "screen names" in the same manner they would exchange phone numbers. The idea, as you are doubtlessly aware, is that when both people are online, they type messages to each other.

The trouble that I'm having is that I type very quickly and accurately, and I keep my English skills in check at all times.

This is a problem because it's very trendy and popular to abbreviate just about everything that can possibly be abbreviated. "You" turns into "u." "Two," "too," and "to" all turn into "2"s and so on.

In most cases, such as in writing out a formal letter or thesis, near-perfect English is a strength rather than a weakness, but I don't want to make the person I'm talking with feel like I'm trying to impress them or (worse yet), make them feel inadequate and self-conscious.

I have resorted to actually purposefully making typographical errors and slowing down my typing speed, but I feel like I'm lying to them whenever I do that. I even asked my mother -- who is somewhat well-versed in social protocol -- and she accused me of being pompous and arrogant for even thinking that I type "too quickly for them." All I want to do is make my conversational partner feel comfortable! Please, Miss Manners, what is the solution?

GENTLE READER: Listening to mamma. Like Miss Manners, she believes in doing what is right, without getting all puffed up about it.

:

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Are there rules of etiquette about going through revolving doors? I work at the National Gallery of Art, a normally well-mannered area, where I have seen for years groups of people walk up to the revolving doors, and almost always the group allows women to proceed first into the revolving doors.

The doors are quite heavy and not easy to turn. Invariably, the women struggle with pushing the doors around to gain entry. I've witnessed the "grandmother" of the group in this situation.

Shouldn't men enter revolving doors first to push the doors around for those who will be following?

GENTLE READER: Yes, but it is all they can do to remember the rule "ladies first," without straining themselves to deal with the exceptions. (In addition to revolving doors, these include going downstairs and exiting from buses, trains or airplanes, where the idea is that if the lady should trip, she will at least land on something agreeable.)

A colleague of yours has invented the solution of making a complete turn in the door, so that he can both go ahead of the lady to push it and allow her to enter the gallery first. Miss Manners worries about this. A concerned lady might keep going around herself, so that she can inquire, "Aren't you coming in?"

If amusement of this sort is what is required, there is a carousel nearby for the purpose.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: The small parking lot at my son's kindergarten is often full, but there are many nearby spots on the street, and I have recently started asking people who park in the fire lane and start walking away to please move their cars.

If they apologize and move, I say "thank you," but a more typical response (and here I am paraphrasing) is that it is none of my business.

Is this true? Does the requirement to not interfere with other peoples' lives extend to pretending not to notice nonfelony rule-breaking? Because we are not the police, is it best to just say nothing when we see someone leaving their fast-food wrappers on the bench at the bus stop, not cleaning up after their dog in the public park, slipping some small item into their pocket at the store, or leaving their car in the emergency lane?

GENTLE READER: It is best not to impersonate a police officer -- or, for that matter, a kindergarten teacher -- who has caught someone breaking the rules and whose job it is to teach the offender a lesson.

Miss Manners assures you that this does not constitute a total ban against noticing other people's transgressions. It does, however, rule out going about town reprimanding them. Thank goodness for that; if not, Miss Manners would not be able to navigate a single block without inviting a fight.

What you can do is offer to be of help. You did say "please," and Miss Manners hopes it was attached to: "Please excuse me, but I'm afraid you didn't notice that is a fire lane. There is parking on the street," and not to: "You can't park there. Please move your car this minute."

The politer form gives the violators a way to move while admitting to nothing worse than an oversight. Being polite does not protect you against those who are determined to be rude, but it protects you from joining them.

Should they refuse to cooperate, you can take a lesson from the kindergartners themselves: Tattle to someone in authority.

: