DEAR MISS MANNERS: I was engaged within the past couple of months, and unfortunately I'm already dealing with a minor issue. I had already picked out my matron of honor, but I didn't want to ask her until the engagement was officially announced and the planning stage was well underway.

Little did I know that my friend and her husband were looking at the possibility of moving to a location that's a 17-hour drive away from where I live. When I found out, I mentioned to my friend that I wanted her to be my matron of honor, but that I had doubts that she would be able to help out or be able to participate in some of the preparation (such as looking for a wedding dress).

She stated that being chosen to be the matron of honor was an honor, and that if need be she would drive here to help out. I still had my concerns, but decided since the move wasn't definite that I would go ahead with my choice.

Now the move is more definite and my doubts about her availability to help out and participate have become more pronounced. I find myself wondering if I shouldn't choose another to be the matron of honor.

I don't really want to choose someone else, since I already have asked her, and I feel that would be an insult. At the same time, I would hate to put such a strain on her and her family by making her drive all the way to where I live to help out with wedding plans. Unfortunately, my financial status and hers won't allow for the purchase of plane tickets, so I'm kind of at a loss as to what to do.

I guess with all that said, I would like to know if it would be wrong of me to choose another person to be my matron of honor after already asking someone else.

GENTLE READER: Apparently, you are not the only bride who looks at the term "maid of honor" (or, in this case, matron) and decides that "maid," rather than "honor," is the defining term.

Miss Manners' mail is filled with pleas for help from poor young ladies who find themselves in indentured servitude after being so chosen. And some of them weren't poor before the brides ordered them to spend lavishly on wedding-related clothes, travel and entertainment -- in addition to waiting upon their best friends, who have suddenly become their non-paying employers.

This is a perversion of the position. The only lady's maid tasks are at the wedding itself, and consist of such fussing as straightening the bride's train at the altar, holding her bouquet during the ceremony, and handing her a tissue during the reception when her cheeks are streaked with guests' lipstick.

Whatever else she may choose to do -- not, please note, what the bride tells her to do -- should come from her being the bride's closest friend, allowing for her own particular circumstances.

So it would indeed be an insult to tell her that she can no longer be your best friend if she is not available for errands. What you should be telling her is that you would love to have her along for the preliminaries, but all that really matters to you is that she stand with you at the altar.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Is it rude to wear headphones and listen to a baseball game while attending the game with others?

Often it is helpful and informative to hear the radio announcers describe what I am watching. But my husband feels it is rude to listen and not engage in conversation with him during the game.

GENTLE READER: Spectatorship can properly be an individual or a team sport, but not both at the same time. If your husband's sociability interferes with your enjoyment of the game, Miss Manners suggests that you attend alone and that he find more compatible companions with whom to attend.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I appear to have committed some type of etiquette error at my 30th high school reunion.

No dress was advised, but when I called about this I was told "elegant but not black tie" -- not a lot of help. My husband wore a navy blue suit and I decided on a satin tea-length dress. As I have near-waist-length hair, I opted for an up-do, done at a salon. It was a simple French twist, the way I always have my hair done for more formal events.

No sooner than we went to the event than people started talking about my hair. Specifically, they couldn't believe I'd had it "done." While my dress was OK with the "group opinion," the fact that I'd had my hair done was clearly outside the norm. While all of the women wore dresses, none had up-dos.

Is there an etiquette rule for a more formal hairstyle? I thought an up-do (simple, not prom hair) was appropriate for a 48-year-old woman, but I seemed to have missed something along the way.

GENTLE READER: Are you quite certain that the event you attended was your 30th high school reunion? Is it possible that you wandered into the sophomore prom by mistake?

Groups of people who hone in on one person to deliver an on-the-spot criticism -- always with an air of belief that their catty opinions are indisputable and helpful -- have provided generations of citizens with a lifetime feeling of relief that they are no longer in high school.

Even the most callous bullies are supposed to have learned something in the subsequent 30 years, if only that bullying is dangerous. The technique only worked in high school because it preys on victims during a stage of life where many are uncertain enough about themselves to worry that it is they who are wrong, and not their tormentors.

What alarms Miss Manners more is that you do not seem to have used those 30 years to learn that you can wear your hair as you please, and that etiquette does not side with bullies.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My husband and I have known that our son is gay for three years, since he was 15 years old. We told a few close relatives and left it at that until he was old enough to address issues himself.

Lately, however, he has run into a problem concerning well-meaning acquaintances and friends inquiring about his sexual preference, since he is presently 18 and doesn't date.

"Don't you like girls?" is the favorite. He replies that he does like girls, knowing that this reply is honest in a way, but not in the way they mean. He wants to be honest and true to himself without revealing information he doesn't feel is any of their business.

GENTLE READER: It seems to Miss Manners that your son already has the answer he wants. His choice is whether to reply to the text of the question or to the subtext. He chose to respond to the surface text.

The subtext is a demand to know about his sex life. This is never anyone's business to ask, as it is up to individuals to decide with whom they wish to discuss that subject.

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Etiquette went to a lot of trouble to invent short code-words and expressions to indicate goodwill in the daily give-and-take of life. The prime examples are "please" and "thank you," which your mother annoyingly called The Magic Words.

Miss Manners will thank you to remember that these are merely grace notes intended to soothe and excuse the jostling of one person's needs against another's. To subject them to psychological and sociological analysis is not just silly but tedious.

Nor should they be put to a truth test. It is their job to create the fiction that people who use them do not wish to disturb others and are grateful for even the smallest favors.

So naturally, during the Age of Querulousness, people started objecting to them as not just unnecessary but degrading. Even now, when society has become as graceless as those people might have wished, some still grumble.

Because the expressions ceased to be universally taught, generations grew up without learning how to use them. As the need to get along with others remains, people of goodwill are stumbling along as best they can, often with awkward or easily misunderstood substitutes.

Here, then, is a glossary of, ah, magic words. Just learn them. Please.

-- Please: Precedes any request, however trivial or perfunctory. Unauthorized replacements: "Here's what I need" or "I need you to..."

-- Thank you: Follows any granted request, however trivial or perfunctory.

(Note to Gentle Reader who argues that he is "not obliged to be profusely grateful for a person's actions or requests in the normal course of their work": No, but you are obliged to say "please" and "thank you" to them.)

-- You're welcome: Response to "thank you." Unauthorized replacements: "No problem" and "Thank YOU."

(Note to Gentle Reader who argues that "we need to assure customers that there is not anything that cannot be done to assist them": Yes, there probably is, but you can create that impression by saying "Certainly, I'd be happy to..." when the request is made, and then by cheerfully fulfilling it.)

-- No, thank you: Negative response to offers, typically of refreshments. Unauthorized replacement: "I'm fine."

-- Yes, please: Positive response to offers. Unauthorized replacement: "OK."

-- Excuse me: Preface to interrupting or otherwise inconveniencing someone. Unauthorized replacements: "Hey," "I'm just going to sneak by you here," "Coming through!" "Let me just steal that" and "Well, excuse YOU."

(Note to numerous Gentle Readers who point out that "Excuse me" is often the immediate prelude to grabbing and shoving: Deplorably true, but would you really be happier with the unannounced rude action?)

-- I'm sorry: Response to complaints about mistakes made by oneself or one's place of employment. Unauthorized replacements: "I'm sorry you feel that way," "I can see you're upset," "I wasn't here that day" and "OK, here's what you have to do..."

-- That's quite all right: Response to an apology. Can be said graciously if the apology is satisfactory or coldly if it is not. Unauthorized replacement: "Well, you ought to be."

-- Sir, Madam, Ma'am, Miss: Courtesy titles to people whose names are not known to the speaker. Unauthorized replacement: "You guys." Response to the argument that such titles makes one "feel old": Perhaps you are, but whatever your age, you can't alter it by being rude to people who treat you with dignity.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Does etiquette or tradition dictate a time when women are supposed to stop wearing engagement rings and opt for the wedding band alone?

GENTLE READER: If etiquette considered itself authorized to go around confiscating married ladies' diamond rings, Miss Manners would have long since retired in luxury on the proceeds. That is, presuming that she hadn't been shot first by the indignant victims or the gentlemen who gave them these very solid symbols of sentiment.

The only case in which etiquette insists that a lady has to surrender her engagement ring is when she breaks her engagement. After marriage, or whatever else follows, she is presumed to have fulfilled the engagement.

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