DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am an avid walker. I start my day with a walk fast enough to work my muscles and increase my heart rate.

I walk the streets in my neighborhood and frequently see neighbors out walking or strolling with their dogs. I acknowledge them with a friendly "Good morning," but don't slow or attempt to engage them in further conversation.

On occasion, folks will want to stop and visit, and while I'm very social and appreciative of their desire to be friendly, I don't want to break my routine or allow my pulse to slow.

Can I graciously disengage and keep moving without appearing to be rude or aloof?

GENTLE READER: You can graciously disengage yourself in any number of ways, from the "I'm sorry, but I really have to go" to the "I think I hear my mother calling."

But all of these options require time. What you really want is a method for not stopping, for which Miss Manners recommends acquiring a mental mindset of yourself as a ship that requires miles to stop: Wave and smile as momentum carries you out of range of your talkative neighbor.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have dozens of elderly clients, and many of them tell me, in detail, about their medical adventures. How do I politely shut someone down when they get into very graphic descriptions of illness and surgeries that, frankly, make my stomach churn?

I have respect for my elders and believe they deserve an ear, but it goes way too far when they share details concerning blood, pus, vomit and feces. Help!

GENTLE READER: "That sounds like information for your doctor, not me" would be better than "Ew!!!"

Nothing, however, will outperform the basic social skill of knowing how to change the subject gracefully: "Is there anything I can help you with?" Miss Manners trusts that they will understand that you cannot help them with their medical misfortunes.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Our main weekend activity is dinner parties: informal, in someone's home, kids included. We have a large circle of friends who all entertain and like to be entertained this way.

Invitations are usually sent by text message. Let's say we issue an invitation on a Sunday for the following weekend. If that invitation is declined, we'll invite someone else.

But what if I don't hear back at all? I often receive an invitation from someone else before my own prospective guest has responded one way or another. And then I'm the person causing uncertainty in someone's weekend.

At what point am I free to assume my prospective guests are unavailable, and make other plans?

GENTLE READER: With a one-week invitation, half a week is more than enough time for a reasonable person to respond. If, after that time, no response has been given, Miss Manners suggests a follow-up that politely makes up their mind for them: "So sorry you can't make it this weekend. Let's reschedule."

If you think this will prompt a protest from the other end, you are free -- but not required -- to add an additional few hours between sending the above and accepting a conflicting invitation yourself.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have a problem that was once unique, but more people these days are unfortunately facing it. I'm a retired teacher who spent my whole career at a school that is internationally famous for a mass shooting that happened before I retired. It is a horribly painful part of my life.

At a wedding last night, I went through something that has happened more times than I can count: The hostess introduced me to a guest by saying, "This is (my name). She used to teach at (school's name)."

The new acquaintance said, "Where were you when the shooting happened?"

I said, "In the building, but that's not a pleasant conversation for a wedding," and tried to change the subject. He followed up by asking about how I felt about another shooting involving elementary students.

Trust me: Nobody wants to know how I feel about that.

I said, "Oh, that's not really a good conversation for a wedding, either."

He got huffy and said, "You knew I had to ask."

This has happened at holiday parties, showers, all kinds of places. It's like all of my friends and acquaintances think this is a great way to start conversations between me and their other friends. It's not.

Do I talk to everyone whose invitations I accept and ask not to be introduced this way? How do I get people not to ask, and certainly not to keep pushing? It has ruined entire occasions for me that should have been happy.

GENTLE READER: Your problem is indeed those tasteless hosts. When introducing guests, it is helpful to provide a conversation starter -- but only if the guest wants to have that conversation.

Aside from choosing more sensitive friends, you must stop such announcements by saying firmly, "That is not something I care to discuss." Or, in today's parlance, Miss Manners might resort to "I don't think you want to trigger that memory."

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I came of age in the early 1980s, and I have never heard of anyone in my generation, or the previous one, asking a lady's father for permission to propose marriage. And yet nowadays, the question of whether to do so comes up with surprising regularity in advice columns and online.

Has the custom undergone a revival in recent years, or was I mistaken to think that it had died out back then?

GENTLE READER: This was never a very useful custom, as Miss Manners recalls. Any self-respecting Victorian girl would have known how to make her father's life a burden to him if he tried to drive away a favored suitor.

But now that its uselessness is blatant, it has acquired a certain charm -- like the surprise proposal in a couple who have long since established a household and debated making it legal. Or, for that matter, a father "giving away" a bride who is obviously independent of his jurisdiction.

Miss Manners would consider these quaint trappings harmless, but only up to the point when they are used as a serious requirement.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Or should I say "Hi, Miss Manners!"?

I have noticed that all email, and lots of snail letters, even business ones, start with "Hi" instead of "Dear." I don't like it, especially from strangers or when it concerns business. But if I continue to write "Dear," will people think I am sending them love letters?

GENTLE READER: Or spam. Miss Manners has noticed that spammers have adopted versions of "Dear one" as a salutation, sometimes ratcheting it up to "Beloved."

They, too, seem to be interpreting it as ingratiating affection, rather than a neutral convention.

Miss Manners is not quite ready to let go of the conventional "Dear" salutation, and agrees with you that "Hi!" seems cheeky. But she is open to ideas if anyone can think of something simple and dignified.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I encountered two local celebrities at separate social events. These people are well-known, but not so famous that they would assume everyone knows who they are. These were family events, not related to the work that underlies their prominent status in the community.

What is the appropriate way to indicate that I knew who they were while I was being introduced to them? There was an awkward imbalance created when I knew so much more about them than they knew about me.

GENTLE READER: Could you honestly have said, "I admire your work"? If not, perhaps a cordial, "I know you by reputation."

Or not. Miss Manners asks you to consider the possibility that such a person might not want to act the public figure at informal family gatherings. You might just introduce yourself the way you would meet any guest.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My partner and I have attempted to go to at least one cultural event -- a museum, concert or play -- each month. One thing troubles me: At the end of nearly every live performance we have attended, the audience members jump to their feet and give the performers a standing ovation.

I can understand this when the performers are students or amateurs, and the audience is made up of family members. But now it seems that a standing ovation is given for every show, no matter how well performed.

I understood that a standing ovation was reserved for exceptional performances, and I have leapt to my feet at some outstanding productions. Now, however, there seems to be a race to see who can stand up the fastest. On the other hand, one does not wish to be the only one retaining their seat.

Should one join in this overwrought exercise, if only to begin one's egress from the venue?

GENTLE READER: No. But you will not be alone, because Miss Manners is going to remain seated unless the performance is truly outstanding, or she is related to the performers.

What you are describing is ovation inflation, the entertainment world's equivalent of grade inflation in academia. Audiences have surrendered their privilege of passing judgment on professional performances, with the sweet but mistaken idea that they must thank the performers for showing up, whether or not they succeeded.

But this, in turn, robs the performers of the possibility of earning genuine tributes, instead of robotic ones. If everyone is outstanding, no one is standing out.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)