DEAR MISS MANNERS: How does a young lady sit properly on an old, bumpy, wobbly and rusty seat without a back and at an unconventional height? The stool about which I inquire is approximately 3 feet off the ground and has a bar around its legs approximately 8 inches above the ground. Ought I to simply place one foot on the bar and tuck the other leg behind it? I ask because it seems that when I attempt to sit properly on such a stool in my Auto Tech class I make quite a spectacle of myself and I am sure that someday I shall most certainly fall off.

GENTLE READER: "It's all in the posture," said the lady in the derby hat who was conducting a master class in riding sidesaddle that Miss Manners took in a moment of madness. "If you fall off, it's your own fault."

Never mind. Miss Manners suddenly remembers that when she asked the instructor what keeps a lady's high silk hat on as she is tearing sidesaddle through the woods and over fences, the reply was, "Her veil." You probably don't even wear a veil to Auto Tech class.

Miss Manners' point -- now that you have given up hope that she has one -- is that some seats are never really safe, high wobbly stools and horses among them. Your only hope is to maintain a posture that creates its own balance and position yourself for a comparatively safe landing.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My neighbor and I are having elderly-parent problems. Every Sunday night, she and her family take her mother out to eat. The mother really enjoys these outings, but recently has become more difficult. She returns food as bad, cold or not what she ordered. She criticizes service loudly. This charming lady is becoming an embarrassment. Besides leaving a huge tip, how does one smooth over these difficulties?

My father has started using terrible language and racial epitaphs. He is in a skilled nursing unit of a retirement complex and bedfast. Words and gestures he would never have tolerated from his children are becoming the norm. The people who care for him and his guests are subjected to this daily.

My mother is spending most of her time in his room trying to smooth things over, but he will not be quieted or deviated. His condition will probably not change, but how to deal with those he has insulted?

Our parents are obviously not going to change. How does one handle this?

GENTLE READER: Sadly, life has come full cycle here, and you are caring for them as they cared for you -- except that instead of the joy they had in watching you learn, you must watch them forget. That they should forget even the basic decencies that they taught you is particularly tragic.

Miss Manners is afraid that you must do for them in their post-courtesy stage what they did to mitigate your effect on others when you were in your pre-courtesy stage. Out of your parents' hearing, you should apologize profusely, explain that they are not themselves and do not mean what they say, and express your sympathy and gratitude. And, yes, tips and praise to workers' supervisors are good ways to show that you realize those who are nevertheless good to them are working under difficult circumstances.

:

"What should I get you?"

"What can I bring?"

"Is there anything I can do?"

Such open-ended generosity has the odd effect of creating consternation -- but only, Miss Manners has observed, among polite people. Anyone else sees only that relatives, friends and acquaintances are coming forward, of their own free will, to offer presents, contributions and services, so eager to please that they are asking the beneficiaries to dictate the specifics.

Blank checks!

Yet cashing them would require the well-mannered to violate modesty, hospitality and a reluctance to impose upon others. So they murmur bashfully:

"Oh, please don't get me anything -- really, I have everything I could possibly want."

"Just bring yourselves."

"No, no, we're fine, thanks. I promise I'll call if we need any help."

Miss Manners notices that people who are unencumbered by those pesky virtues have no such trouble. Instead of shilly-shallying around, they answer the questions at face value:

"What I really need now is not a lot of stuff, but help in paying off some debts."

"Why don't you make those fancy hors d'oeuvres you had at your party? Or, if you don't have time, you could just bring the liquor. It'll be for somewhere between 30 and 50 people."

"Well, the house is a mess, and with everything going on, I just haven't been in the mood to clean it."

It's not that they don't have an urge to be kind to people who are so ready to serve them. It is just that the form this takes is different. People who do not practice social reciprocity (because even these tasks might reasonably be begged of someone for whom one performs comparable ones) argue that they are doing their would-be benefactors a favor by taking them at their word. If those people didn't enjoy giving and serving, they wouldn't have asked. As an added delicacy, this saves the benefactors the onerous task of guessing how best to serve, and the embarrassment of guessing wrong.

If this weren't consideration enough, many would-be beneficiaries are now also saving others the trouble of volunteering by listing demands -- whether directly or through Web sites, gift registries and notations on invitations -- without waiting to be asked.

This is not good for the etiquette business.

It is all very smart to sneer at the notion that it is the thought that counts, brazenly declaring that no, it's the take that counts. But the whole symbolic basis of exchanging presents, hospitality and favors refers to our longing to be noticed thoughtfully by others.

True, the possibility of error is always there, which is why etiquette allows thoughtfulness to be assisted by sneaky tactics.

If observation fails to suggest what presents might be welcome, it is fair to ask people who are in a better position to observe. So if you don't know what to get your faraway nephew, you ask his parents what his current interests are and whether there is a particular item they might suggest.

Guests are not expected to contribute to other people's dinner parties, so if they want to bring something, it should be flowers, candy or some treat that can be enjoyed by the hosts later.

To offer a service, one should name something specific, such as "There'll be a lot of people calling to ask about the funeral -- let me stay and answer the telephone" or "I can take the dog while you're in the hospital" or "I'd like to drop off some meals you can just heat."

If all of these are rejected, it becomes possible to say, in a tone of fond exasperation, "Well, I want to do something, so you'll have to tell me what." Only then can the polite beneficiary admit defeat and say, "Well, if you really insist..."

DEAR MISS MANNERS: When on an airplane, where is the proper place to change a baby's diaper? A bathroom, seat area, or ???

GENTLE READER: Where is "???"?

The cockpit is locked these days, so that is out of the question. Miss Manners will do you the courtesy of assuming that you do not have your eye on the galley from which food is served.

This leaves the seat area, which would disgust everyone for rows around you, and the bathroom, which would then be tied up as others are waiting to use it. The latter is definitely the lesser of the evils. Other passengers may be able to find another bathroom, but they cannot disembark from a cabin that you have turned into one.

:

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I work at a student activities center at a university. Our students tend to be of the very serious type, so much so that the university created the activity center for the express purpose of getting our students out of the library/lab/classroom and into more social, communal settings.

We run activities during the day, but there are hours in the mornings and evenings when not much is happening. Invariably, some students have gotten into the habit of coming in at those off-times to study. Then, when other students come in to socialize, which is the rightful use of the space, they get "shushed" by the studiers.

We as staff face a few dilemmas here: How to politely intervene in this exchange that did not involve us directly? How to politely remind the studiers that the university provides libraries in which one can expect quiet space, but the student activities center is not one of them?

And, finally, how to let the socializers know that they do not have to stop socializing just because a studier "shushed" them? We do not want to alienate anyone in this situation, but we also do not want to allow the studiers to co-opt the activity center.

GENTLE READER: Which school is this? Miss Manners has an urge rather like a pedestrian who has spotted a parking space and therefore wants to run and buy a car. She wants to gather up every child she can find and make them all enroll.

Meanwhile, you should be quietly approaching those scholars to say, "You might be happier studying in the library. This is a social center, and so of course there is bound to be noise."

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My fiance is a real Texan all the way down to his boots, and that's where the problem comes in. He wants me to have a pair of "good" boots, but everything I like he doesn't and vice versa.

After searching for a year, I found a pair that I fell in love with. While the $200-plus price tag is a bit more than I would care to spend, I realize a good pair of boots will be expensive, and I decided to bite the bullet and spring for them.

Now my sweetie decides he'd like to buy me the pair of boots, knowing I had found something I fancied. When he asked "How much?" I told him.

He promptly exploded, "OH, GOOD GOSH!" (This is from a man who has paid much more for boots for himself). I never expected him to buy the boots for me and I said so.

Then he starts apologizing and says he wants to buy them for me. I flatly refused, explaining that I could never enjoy wearing something that he so obviously thought was more than he wished to spend.

Now he's upset with me. How could I have better responded?

GENTLE READER: You did fine; you're just not finished. The next step is for you to tell Sweetie there that this is part of your trousseau that you are bringing to the marriage, and he will have plenty of opportunity later to buy you what he thinks suitable, and that you want him to be proud of you wearing beautiful boots, and so on.

Please excuse Miss Manners from taking part in this treacle; she just wants you to know that it is necessary. Single gentlemen harbor strange illusions about ladies' upkeep, and one exclamation followed by an apology is a reasonable indication that now he knows.

: