The Past-Due Present, and the Texting Teen

Dear Philip,

My friend from college recently made a snide remark about the fact that I never sent her a wedding present, even though the wedding was almost ten years ago, when I had just started working and didn’t have any money.  I know I should have made some token effort, but I was seriously broke at the time, and already had to pay for the bridesmaid’s dress.

I can’t believe she has been harboring this for so long, and can’t just be direct about it.  Should I say something to her, or let her comment drop?

Moved On, Already

Dear Moved,

Don’t say a word.  Send her a present, already.  Seriously.

Let me see if I get this straight. You’re asking whether or not you should confront her for reminding you of a pretty serious lapse in manners?  I’ll grant you that snide comments are not the best form of communication, but they’re often a very telling form, and rather than be insulted you might want to pay attention to the message: she expected better from someone with whom she felt close enough to include in her wedding party.  Even after a decade, she remembers the upset.

So fix it.  Pick out something thoughtful, and send it with a direct and apologetic note.  Try, “I should have sent this years ago.  You had such a lovely wedding, and I was so honored to be a part of it.”  Don’t make mention of the comment that led you to finally send a gift, and certainly don’t berate her for it or try a snide retort of your own.  Simply acknowledge the belatedness of the gift.  Practice humility.

It’s amazing how liberating it can be to say, without defensiveness or resentment, ‘I was wrong and I apologize.’  Your friend will be touched, and maybe a little embarrassed.  Don’t let her be: if she tries to tell you that her comment wasn’t meant to result in a gift, let her off the hook.  Tell her that you’d always felt funny that you hadn’t sent a present when you finally had the means.

Miss Manners will tell you it’s proper to send a wedding present within a year, but I say there’s no statute of limitation on a heartfelt, giftwrapped apology.

Oh, and picture frames are always nice,

Philip

Dear Philip,

Help!  My daughter texts at dinner, whether we’re at home or out.  She texts when I’m driving her somewhere.  She texts when she’s hanging out with her friends.  I had to ask her to turn her phone off at the movies, last week. 

Even though she says she can’t understand how I’m distracted by her (silently) typing to others, it bugs me to no end.  Should I just accept this because it’s what everyone seems to do, now?

Disconnected

Dear Disconnected,

Forgive me, did you say something?  I was too busy LOLing to pay attention.  Or was that ROFLing?  IDK, TTYL.

See how incredibly dated I seem, making those jokes?  That’s because I’m an adult, Dis. Spending large amounts of time thumb-typing silly acronyms about absolutely nothing of importance is for kids, not their parents.

And you’re a parent, right?  You did refer to the subject of your letter as your daughter, so I’m assuming you take some responsibility for raising her.  Here’s a great place to start: ‘Put the phone away.’  Use that phrase often, and don’t precede it with ‘Please.’

Just because we didn’t grow up with the technology doesn’t mean we can’t recognize rude: holding an electronic conversation with someone else while at the dinner table – or worse, at a restaurant – is no more acceptable than talking on the phone in those situations…so why do you accept it?  Set boundaries; teach manners.  Declare your table a phone and text-free zone, and maybe your car, too.

And definitely the movie theater…because if her local advice columnist has to put up with one more bright, tiny screen in front of him during a flick, she might find out how badly cell phones do when dunked in 64-ounce Diet Cokes.

L8R,

Philip

The Dithering Boyfriend, and the Not-So-Happy Hour

Dear Mr. Van Munching,

I am going to be a senior in high school next month.  My boyfriend told me that he is not sure if he wants to date me anymore. He hasn’t officially broken up with me and says he wants to think about it for awhile.

He says that he’s sorry that I’m so upset, but he doesn’t know if it’s a good idea to be with someone when we’re just going to have to break up when we go to college.  Do you think he’s right, or is it stupid to break up now?

Waiting

Dear Waiting,

Your boyfriend is absolutely, positively right to be so cautious: why date someone when you might have to break up for college?  And then why have a relationship when you’re actually in college, and you might end up in different cities after?  Come to think of it, it’s also not smart to be with anyone during the first year or two of your career, because people transfer.

Tell him from me that it’s just not safe to date until you’re in your late 20s.  Or you have a mortgage.  That’s a good sign you’re staying put.  Probably.

Sarcasm aside, the answer to your question is still no, it’s not stupid to break up now.  That’s now, as in don’t wait for him to decide your fate: leave the boy at the curb, and drive on.

My question, Waiting, is why would you want to be with someone who’s so indecisive about being with you?  I’ll paraphrase the goofy quote someone posted on Facebook recently: ‘If you want to leave me, I won’t block the door…I’ll hold it open for you.’  (It was funnier with a strategic curse word.  Everyone but my editor thought so.)

At best, your boyfriend is taking you for granted.  He’s sure you’ll wait around while he decides if your relationship is worth continuing.  He’s also shown that he’s not serious enough about dating you to risk anything, which is really wimpy considering the worst thing that could happen is that you break up…just like tens of thousands of other college-bound people do every fall.

Of course, not everyone in your shoes breaks up when high school ends.  Some couples last for a while into college.  Some longer.  Some end up together for life, and though they may pretend to be annoyed by the moniker, secretly love it when they hear people describe them as “high school sweethearts.”

You know what the vast majority of the people in those sturdy relationships have in common, Waiting?  They work hard at them.  They treat each other with respect.  They may even have broken up and gotten back together somewhere along the line, but they sure don’t whine about ‘not being certain’ they want to be with their mate.

So don’t wait around while your boyfriend decides your fate.  Cut him loose.  Breaking up doesn’t mean that you’ll never work it out and maybe date him again.  It just means that if you do, it’ll be on equal footing.  In the meantime, find someone who isn’t wishy-washy about you. 

A girl with the manners to address her local advice columnist as “Mr.” deserves nothing less.

Mr. VM

Dear Philip:

My coworkers often have “happy hour” in the office.  I am sober and do not drink.  They never think to buy non-alcoholic beverages for me.  They know I don’t drink – it’s a small office.  Should I say something, or just deal?

Fed Up.

Dear Fed:

You know why your coworkers drink?  To numb themselves from the sting of their own selfishness.  (Heh heh.)

Of course you should say something.  Try some version of the following to the person tasked with buying supplies for the next office shindig:  “I'd love it if you brought back a Diet Coke/Ginger Ale/(whatever you drink), along with the stuff you're getting for happy hour.”  That’s a perfectly reasonable request…and if the person responds in any way that isn't “No problem!,” explain calmly that you feel left out.  

Raising my soda in solidarity,

Philip

Our Grandson, the Pawn

Dear Philip,

My daughter-in-law is not letting us see our first grandchild more than once in a great while.  She and my son live just a town away, and her parents get to see and babysit the boy quite often.  She was wonderful to us when she and our son were dating and first married, but has become very cold and demanding since her son was born.

My husband and I tiptoe around her in the hope that she’ll bring him over more often and possibly let us spend a day with him, but so far his visits are short and she makes a point of never letting him out of her arms for long.  She makes it clear that we need to dance to her tune in order to see him at all.  We’re devastated that we will be near-strangers to him.  Our son makes excuses for her, and we’re afraid if we push him, she’ll have an excuse to never let us see their baby.  What can we do?

Crushed and Confused

Dear Crushed,

Babies can be so difficult…especially when they have children.

And that’s the last even minor attempt at humor I’ll make in answering you, because your letter is heartbreaking.  (And much longer: I’ve edited for space, and so that this column’s readers won’t take up pitchforks and demand your daughter-in-law’s address.)  You and your husband don’t deserve this treatment.  Nobody does.

In reading your full story, it’s clear that your son’s wife has a personality that’s equal parts entitlement and resentment; she, like most narcissists, is also deeply insecure.  She’s also angry.  That personality is a minefield, which – if it isn’t already – will soon become perilous ground for your son, and eventually for your grandson.  Kids have a funny way of growing up and testing their parents.  She’ll fail.

It’s heartbreaking that she’s casually denying you one of the basic joys in life for any parent; the chance to bond with the child of your child.  What she’s doing to her child is worse.  Getting to know our grandparents happens when our personalities form; the feelings that we have about family are forged in those first years…and what she’s teaching your grandson is that family ties are disposable and that it’s okay to play favorites.

That’s the bad news.  The good news is that she’s also a bully, and bullies have a way of backing down in the face of superior strength.  She has the baby, but you have maturity: it’s time to challenge her as calmly as you’re able.  It’s also time to let your son know that this is his problem, as well.

Actually, let’s talk about your son, for a moment.  He’s not making excuses for his wife in her bizarre struggle with you, he’s cultivating you and your husband as emotional allies.  On some level he’s likely not even aware of, he’s already afraid of her…and as long as you are, too, he doesn’t feel so alone.  Or cowardly.

Don’t be his ally, or her toady.  Sit them down and tell them – directly – how you feel.  Tell them both how much you’ve looked forward to having grandchildren, and how confusing and upsetting it is that you’re not given much in the way of access to their son.  The important part is to keep the conversation about you and your feelings; don’t wonder aloud about her motives, because she can disagree with your assessment, and use that to pump up her self-righteousness…and to deepen the divide between you and your son.  Stick to “this is painful, and we don’t understand.”

And then, when your son circles back to make excuses for her, don’t let him.  Keep up the calm “this is painful, and we don’t understand” narrative.  You may not want to middle him, but he’s already in the middle, and needs to be uncomfortable enough to stand up to his wife.  Clear expressions of your pain will be a lot more effective than either continuing to suck it up or finally (and understandably) losing your temper.

Yours in patience,

Philip

Lend in Haste, Repent at Leisure

Dear Philip,

We own a small house in a beach town.  At least a few times every summer, I am “guilted” into letting someone I barely know use the house.  Sometimes it’s a friend of a friend, or one of our relatives’ friends.  Last month it was someone I know through my exercise class.

More than once, these people that my husband and I don’t really know very well (or at all) have damaged or broken something in the house, and either not said anything or insisted it was broken when they got there.  My husband wishes I would stop loaning the house to “near strangers,” but nothing major has ever happened and I feel an obligation to share the things we’re fortunate enough to have.  Am I wrong?

Soft Touch

Dear Soft,

How interesting that you use the concepts of guilt and obligation interchangeably.  (Mom?  Is that you?)

Actually, the joke I should have made is ‘Honey, is that you?,’ because this exact argument has gone on in my house, over a tiny place we rent.  A place where in the past year alone we’ve had to fix the washing machine, replace one set of sheets and two bike tires, and placate an angry neighbor.  All because my bride shares your difficulty in distinguishing guilt from obligation.

Like you, Soft, my bride also has a generosity of spirit that is laudable…even if it can get expensive.  Like you, she’s right that good fortune comes with an obligation to be generous.  The problem you both seem to have is with understanding the prudent limits of that obligation.

Take a step back, and think about the folks you and your husband consider good friends.  Would any of them treat your house carelessly or just walk away from any damage they might accidentally do while staying in it?  Didn’t think so.  That’s part of why they’re your friends: they share your values.  If one of them were to leave the upstairs tub to overflow, and then insist that the water damage in your kitchen ceiling was already there, that friendship would likely be over before the estimate for ripping out the plasterboard came in. 

Your assumptions about values shouldn’t extend to the relatives of your friends, or folks who work out on the next mat over, though.  Neither should your sense of obligation when it comes to doling out the use of your home.

Last summer, Christina was introduced to the cousin of a friend of hers at a cookout.  The cousin had absolutely no problem – once Christina had let on that we’d be skipping a weekend at the beach because of an obligation at home – asking if she could use our place.  Put on the spot, Christina said, “Of course.”  The cousin proceeded to invite another woman and her children along…and then to shove every towel the kids used over the weekend into the washing machine.  At the same time.  Though it probably put up a hell of a fight, the overloaded appliance died somewhere during the spin cycle.  Here’s the exact message we got:  “Your washing machine isn’t working.”

The punch line is that when Christina’s friend found out what happened, she said, “Why on earth would you loan your place to her?”

Which suggests a rule of thumb, Soft: when it comes to sharing things of real value, put your faith in your friends.

As for getting cornered by a relative stranger (or the relative of a friend, for that matter) asking to borrow your house, look at it this way: would you ever have – what’s a polite word here? – the chutzpah to do that?  Of course you wouldn’t, so have no qualms about following my one-word advice when dealing with such people.  Lie.  Lie like the rug they’d probably ruin without telling you: “So sorry, the house is spoken for, that weekend.  Actually, we’re full up all summer.”

Yours in not overloading major appliances,

Philip

How Do You Talk Politics? Carefully.

(A note, faithful reader: if this column feels...familiar, it's because I retell a story I told last November.  That column didn't make it into the print version of the Darien Times, so I figured, what's the harm?)

Dear Philip,

My wife has forbidden me from talking politics when we are out to dinner with friends.  She doesn’t let me discuss anything political with her father.  She got upset with me for joining a conversation about the Second Amendment at a Memorial Day barbecue we went to, even though everyone was civil.

I am generally able to keep my cool when talking about politics, but my wife insists that it is not only impolite to do in public, but also what she refers to as “just a bad idea.”  I don’t really see the harm, and I’m very interested in what’s going on in the world.  Is my wife right? Am I not allowed to talk about the things that interest me, anymore?

Sick of Red vs. Blue

Dear Sick,

Your wife’s overabundance of caution, while not completely fair to you, is certainly understandable: turn on cable news for about ten minutes if you’re not yet convinced that political conversation seems to be dominated by folks who show physical signs of advanced rabies.

In fact, Sick, turn on cable news in a public place:  if you choose one channel, you’ll be instantly labeled an America-hating socialist, and if you choose another, you’ll be tagged a mouth-breathing fascist.  It seems a lot of us now love labels almost as much as we hate being disagreed with.

The problem is, we don’t just apply those labels to strangers, anymore.  Your wife is fearful when you publically discuss affairs of state for a very good reason: it used to take quite awhile for political passions to boil over; now (to mix my cooking metaphors) we seem to be living in a giant microwave, where things heat up in a fraction of the time. 

I’ve told this story before, but it seems appropriate, here:  I had the pleasure of speaking at our library’s annual meeting a few years back, and because of the timing (October of an election year), I decided to play a little prank on the crowd.  At the conclusion of a perfectly warmly-received speech, I told the audience that I felt it was important – even if they were not the popular choice in town – that I publicly support “my guys.”  Just as the temperature in the room plummeted to 32º, I whipped out a Red Sox cap and put it on.  The relief was palpable; the crowd laughed heartily.

You know what wasn’t funny?  At least three people let on to my folks during the reception afterward that if I had actually been talking about the Democratic candidates for president and vice president, they’d have gotten up and walked out on my speech. 

Hence your wife’s apprehension.

That’s not to say that all of us have to give in and stop talking about things that we feel passionate about, Sick.  The trick is to apply three simple guidelines:  The Rose Protocol, the Corleone Proposition, and the Yeager Rule.

Like talk-show veteran Charlie Rose, realize that asking questions and listening to the answers accomplishes more than talking over people or bullying them.  (That’s known as the O’Reilly Gambit.)  When someone disagrees with you, make sure to respectfully ask them about their views, rather than just denigrating them.  That leads to conversation, and away from bloviating.

Has any film ever been more chock full of brilliant advice than The Godfather?  Keep in mind that what Don Corleone said about business is also true of politics:  it isn’t personal.  Talk about subjects, not the people involved in them.  If you find a conversation devolving into personal attacks or name-calling, it’s time to employ…

…the Yeager Rule:  Know when to bail out.  Like the great test pilot who managed to not end up in an aeronautic fireball by pushing the eject button at just the right moment, you need to recognize the signs of an impending crash and extricate yourself from the conversation. 

Follow these three simple guidelines, and your wife will get over her fear of your involvement in political debate.  As long as you listen to her about everything else.

Yours in purple,

Philip