You Don't Say

Dear Grace:
The other day I was given a vivid reminder about how to remark on people's appearance. I was with a friend who was wearing a wig, post-chemotherapy. A woman came up to her and kept saying: "My, you look SO different." She would not stop commenting on how different my dear friend looked (and clearly did not know the circumstances ). My poor sick friend had to slink off to the bathroom to have a good cry. Your thoughts?

Grace Says:

Where is a good muzzle when you need one?

Remember that old adage, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything"? Clearly this hag needs a refresher. (Ok, ok, I do love the version attributed to Alice Roosevelt Longworth: "If you don't have anything nice to say, come and sit by me." but that's not the topic at hand today.)

If you wish to remark on someone's appearance, be positive. Don't say, "You look different," say "You look fabulous" and move on.

Another minefield: avoid comparing a person's appearance to a celebrity's unless the celeb in question has been on People Magazine's cover profiling the Sexiest Man/Women Alive: George Clooney, say, or and Angelina Jolie . Pointing out a resemblance to Gilda Radnor from a Saturday night live skit or Weird Al Yankovich may offend. Keep that to yourself.




We joke about what comes from the mouths of babes and horses. We cringe at some of the things that come from the mouths of adults. I offer some general guidelines that should keep you on the Gracious side of the conversational divide:

Matters a Grace never brings up:
-Income. Hers or yours. (Only spouses and the IRS need know.)
-Bedroom antics. (If you disagree, this might not be the Blog for you.)
-Dietary Regimens. ("I never eat carbs/sugar/food; I'm watching my weight, but you go ahead.")
-Anything involving stirrups that is not in the equestrian arena. (Gyn appointment? Bikini wax? No details, please. In fact, no broad strokes, either.)
-Reproduction. ("You never had children? How sad." Or "Why?" "So, when are you going to make your twosome a threesome?" "Poor Johnny seems so lonely. He really needs a little brother or sister." "When are you due?")
-Age. (The only reason to ever ask adults how old they are is if you are selling them life insurance.)
-Expense. (It's no one's business what you paid for your Maserati. Or your mozzarella.)
-Less Than Marvelous Looks ("You look exhausted." "Have you put on weight?" "Rough morning?")
-Your child's brilliance. (No one wants to know. Really. Except perhaps the Princeton admissions office.)

Upcoming post: how to respond when someone sends a less than Gracious comment your way.

E-tiquette

Dear Grace:
Would you please give your fair readers advice on proper fonts for emails, appropriate signatures and discourage use of all caps --I have a friend you uses all capital letters in her email and it makes it sound like she is howling at me. Some people use such odd fonts that their emails are difficult to read especially with smart phones!
Thank you,
The Font Fairy

Dear FF,
Thanks for your question. Here are some guidelines to ensure that you will be as Gracious in cyberspace as you are in the real world. Though judging from your letter, you're not the one in need of the advice.

My Top Five Tips for Gracious E-mails:

1. Capital letters indicate that you are shouting at someone--do you really want to convey that rage across the DSL lines? Howlers are entertaining for fans of Harry Potter, not in e-correspondence.
2. Smiley or sad faces made from colons, semi-colons and parentheses are the cyber equivalent of dotting your i's with hearts. I actually went to graduate school with a woman named Daisy who drew flower petals above her signature. Would you want to cash her checks? I vote "no" to nontraditional use of punctuation.
3. Elaborate calligraphy is fine for your black tie wedding invitations. Not for the email confirming a dental appointment or carpool schedule. Email is primarily about convenience and there's nothing convenient about curlicues that make Ws indistinguishable from Hs, particularly on a small screen. There are plenty of attractive, legible fonts that do not require magnification or cartouche deciphering skills to read. Choose one. Ditto color; stick with black--dark blue if you must. Anything on the red side of the color wheel is a headache waiting to happen. Avoid it.
4. My lawyer husband advises never to put anything in email that you don't want shared with others, saved for eternity, or used as evidence in a future lawsuit. His Gracious wife advises the same policy, but more from the standpoint of avoiding embarrassing social situations than concern for potential litigation. Same conclusion, different world view.
5. Flared Tempers + Fast Typing = Friendship Termination. If you must sound off, send the email to yourself and reread it several hours (or days) later. If it still seems apt, then send. More relationships have suffered due to impulsive clicking than from stolen boyfriends, catty gossip, or workplace rivalry.

If you are still stymied, refer to the handy little volume Send: The Essential Guide to Email for Home and Office by Schwalbe and Shipley. The holidays are just around the corner, might make a nice little stocking stuffer for your CAPITALIZING friend.

Wardrobe Malfeasance

Dear Grace:
While I was attending a memorial service this weekend I walked in behind a woman who I fervently hoped was headed to the bathroom and not into the service. Instead she clomped in and sat down. Clomped? Yes, she was wearing chunky clogs, jeans, a t- shirt adorned with a trendy image and a slouchy back pack. When did funeral services get teen casual? At my mother's own service last year, I saw some astonishing outfits. One woman was wearing camo shorts and a t shirt. Her husband echoed her choice. She wore those trendy velcro excercize shoes. I know that the camo-velcro pair pretty much sticks to couture, and flies in a private jet, so I knew it wasn't because she DIDN'T have a choice. I was irritated by the lack of, yes, class, in the true sense of the word. It shows a lack of respect when you do not dress well for weddings, funerals, Bat Mitzvahs, etc. Another woman had on fishnets, a thigh high dress and sky high stilletos. Really? Was she going clubbing afterwards? Many of the men did not have ties on. I was flabbergasted. One of my dearest friends called me the next day and said: what happened to the dress code? I was reassured, at least that someone besides myself noticed this horrifying spectacle. Would you please give your gracious readers guidance on this.....I keep my funeral garb up prepped and ready with the dedicated heels--it doesn't take too much of an effort.

Grace Says:

Oh, dear. Grace and Jackie are doubtless rolling in their graves. Reading your epistle required a deep, cleansing breath followed by a strong, bracing cocktail. I now feel ready to tackle this alarming trend. What are we coming to? Here are some Gracious Guidelines on dressing for ceremonial events:

• Funerals are somber occasions and attire should reflect that. Stick with black, navy, brown, charcoal gray. You can get away with a very dark green, burgundy or deep plum if the overall look is staid as opposed to fanciful (think Laura Bush, not Britney Spears.)
• Any ceremonial event that honors someone else, be it a funeral, wedding, or christening, should focus primarily on the honoree. On such occasions, your attire should not scream "Look at me!". This is not to say that you must fade into the woodwork, but scene-stealing get-ups are out of place when the spotlight should be elsewhere.
• I abhor athletic shoes worn anywhere but a gym, or while actually engaged in, or en route to, the fitness location. (If the camo/velcro couple stopped at the funeral to pay respects to the dear departed on the way out to hunt and hike this does not qualify as "en route". That is a topic for another day.) There is no place for such garb in civilian (and civilized) society.
• Your appearance conveys your respect for the occasion; if you can't summon up the will to don an appropriately formal outfit then your attendance is questionable at best. If such is the case, stay home and send a cordial note instead.
  

Just for giggles, I thought I'd share this list of Oscar's worst--even people who have staffs of stylists misstep occasionally.....

How Are You? (I Don't Really Want To Know)

It's a rhetorical question, usually. We say it almost reflexively. We don't really want to know the state of your gall bladder or the latest chapter in your marriage horror story. But many people don't get that.

The other day I was in the grocery store. In the Express line. That means 10 items or less and make it snappy. Happened to be standing behind a woman who I served on a committee with several years ago. At the time, we had a few overlapping social, civic and professional circles so saw each other frequently. Not friends, exactly, but acquaintances. Had not seen her for some time, and after a cheery hello, asked (ill-advisedly, as it turned out) "How've you been?". Yes, Graces, I know--strictest interpretation of the question would determine that I did ask. But we were on the Express Line. In a grocery store. You know where this is going. She told me. Yup.

I got to hear about the death of the family pet. (The poor paralyzed peke had to be walked on a skateboard for the last months of his life, so I think it was a blessing.) The intricate details of the stomach virus that infected her entire family last week. The misery of her new job. (No sense of 'glad I've got one in the current climate'.) It was an endless, inappropriate emotional dump.

Now, I'm not asking you to lie, exactly. We all experience ups and downs. You don't have to say that everything is sunshine and roses if you've been going through a bad time. But you don't have to spew your drama and trauma all over my groceries. Here are some appropriate responses in that situation:

--"Well, it's been a rough couple of days/weeks/months but we're managing."
Graces can then respond, "I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe we could have coffee or lunch sometime soon." During coffee or lunch, your beleaguered friend can update you and perhaps you can help in some way.

--"This hasn't been a banner year for us, but it's nice to see you. How's everything with you?"

--"I've been having some health issues, but I'm up and out today so that's good. How've you been?"

Less ideal but better than my grocery line mate:
--"Not exactly perfect supermarket chatter, but I'm going through a divorce. I'll catch up with you next week and fill you in."

So you see, it is possible to be truthful without abusing emotional space.

If you are on the receiving end of one of these effusions, you have a couple of escape routes:

--"Gosh, that sounds awful. Why don't I call you later and we can plan to get together. No sense in sharing your private biz with everyone in the supermarket."

--"I'm sorry to hear that. I certainly hope things turn around for you. Here, let me help you with your bags." (Note clever strategy here; by helping with the bags you are essentially ushering the misery-hemorrhage out the door.)

The other alternative is to simply remove the question "How are you" in all of its forms from your conversation. Greet others thus:

--"Good Morning, Fine weather we're having."
--"Nice to see you."
--"Great coat/shoes/hat/bustier. Love the color!"

But beware, Graces. It's harder than you think. "How are you" sneaks out like teens on prom night. Avoiding it and its associated risks requires ceaseless vigilance and a hearty draught of Grace and Grit.

I leave you with this cautionary illustration of TMI gone beyond my wildestfears....

Movie Munching Madness

Dear Grace:

I was at a movie matinee yesterday and the person in the row in front of me brought in a full lunch--and it stunk! Throughout my viewing of The Social Network, I smelled a greasy burger with onions and french fries, and heard loud chewing and slurping. It totally ruined my enjoyment of the film. I moved farther away from the eater, but we were in a small theater and I could still smell (and hear) the entire repast. What do you recommend in such a situation?

Grace Says:
Wasn't The Social Network great? But even the brilliant Aaron Sorkin's screenplay couldn't salvage your cinematic adventure with this horror show. I see two options in this case:

1. Cover the smell. One of the 'don't leave home without it' items in my handbag is anti-bacterial gel (or wipes). It generally emits a relatively pleasant scent--better at least, than the odor pervading the theater from your neighbor's pastrami sandwich, say. Take the gel or wipe and hold it in the general vicinity of your nose. This will mask the food smell, and hopefully get you to the credits without nausea.

2. Tattle. It is possible that the theatre has a policy against bringing in food from outside. Incidentally, I disagree with this policy and often violate it--but not with burgers and fries. I am repulsed by the portions, selections, and prices of most movie concession stands, so I have been known to smuggle in for my kids small bags of homemade popcorn, juice boxes, lollipops and gum. You will notice that none of these items emits an offensive smell and are a far cry from a full fried meal.

2a. If and when you tattle, you may want to request a refund or voucher to see the movie another time. This is not ideal, of course--you may have arranged your work schedule, babysitter, or other logistics for this particular day, and the movie may be nearing the end of its run. But it beats repulsion.

For those of you who choose or are forced to dine in public places not specifically designed for gustation--airplanes, the workplace (offices, shops, salons, etc.), in carpools--be mindful of your selections. No one wants to sit on a plane next to a sausage sandwich, or have a haircut amid the aroma of pickled herring. If you must consume your repast in such a place, think about the fumes--a turkey sandwich, non-whiffy cheese and fruit, maybe some yogurt and granola won't asphyxiate anyone. That should be your goal.

No, Thanks

After yesterday's post about Menu Management, I got to thinking about the flipside of that dilemma. What if you are the guest who can't/won't eat what is on offer?

I was in this awkward position several years ago. I attended an event honoring educators in our city, which featured a banquet celebrating Chinese New Year. Around that time, I had done a favor for a family who lived in Chinatown and whose children attended school with mine. During the banquet, the mother, who was helping serve the feast, asked if she could make me a plate. It was generous of her to offer and it was clear that she wanted to do something nice for me in response to my previous good turn. Of course, I accepted her kindness. Imagine my dismay when she ceremoniously presented me with a carefully carved pig's ear--apparently a prime cut and an honor reserved for special guests.

Now, I'm certainly no vegetarian, and, being married to a southern boy, ribs and other robust cuts do not deter me. But an ear? This was extreme. The expression "in a pig's ear" came to mind, but clearly that was not the mot juste.

What's a Grace to do?

Well, we fake it. Remember the value of the little white lie? Drag it out in full regalia here. I thanked her profusely, hacked off a nugget, and sent it down the hatch. Fortunately, her duties as co-hostess required her to be elsewhere pretty quickly, so I was not under her watchful eye for more than a bite.

In the event that you are seated at a table with food that simply does not work for you, take small portions and move the food around on your plate. You will not endear yourself to the hostess by declaring as she offers you the offal stew that you don't eat innards.

Much better to say something like:

• "I had a working lunch today and my boss does not take 'no thank you' when offering the tray around. He takes it personally if you eat less than a 12 inch hoagie, so I had an enormous and late lunch. Bad luck, but unavoidable. I'd just like a tasting portion since I'm still pretty full."
• "I ate so many of your delicious appetizers, I am almost at capacity. I'll just have a tiny scoop so I can save room for dessert--I hear your pastry is legendary!"
• "I'm not a huge meat eater--no worries, honestly. I'd love some more potatoes, though."
  

Menu Management

Remember that hilarious episode of Modern Family when Cameron tries to bond with Gloria by eating spicy food? He takes a bit, then sprints from the table shouting "I feel like I ate the sun!"


Well, the scene is riotously entertaining on tv, but we don't want it played in our dining room at our next dinner party. If you are hosting a cocktail party, you need not worry much about the menu--presumably you will offer a variety of nibbles and your guests are not expecting a meal. If you are serving an actual meal, however, you want to avoid a food flop--or your guests seeking an emetic or fire hose after they ingest your masterpiece. There's nothing worse than half of your guests declaring an allergy to shellfish as you as you unveil your shrimp scampi, or an aversion to spicy food as you slice the chili-glazed rack of lamb.

Here are some ways to avoid this nasty scenario:

--- Check with your guests ahead of time. I always send an advance email around to my invitees asking about dietary restrictions or strong aversions--some specific foods that people tend to avoid, either because of allergy, religion or personal preference are: seafood, pork, beef, lamb, nuts, chili peppers, mushrooms, and organ meats, so take a poll if these are featured on your menu.


--- Always, always, always have a several choices on the table. If you are offering meat or fish as a main course, provide ample sides (salad, bread, an interesting vegetable and/or starch option) so that vegetarians can partake without feeling slighted. This practice also avoids your rustling up an omelet as everyone else tucks in to your filet mignon. Regardless of your menu, options are key--a chili-laced vegetable curry sounds divine to me, but some folks don't eat spicy food. Good thing there'll be basmati rice, naan, lentils, and salad for them.

And this video really isn't about menus or chili peppers, but The Office cracks me up. They mentioned a rather unorthodox use of spicy food here, so I thought you might get a giggle....

Facebook Error = Rampant Rumors

I have discussed the etiquette perils of facebook before. I had not, however, been involved in a Facebook debacle that provided significant grist for the local rumor mill and called into question the health of two marriages, one being my own.

Here's the story....

My friend C and I have launched a food blog on behalf of our beloved Reading Terminal Market. We were hard at work yesterday, and as we trucked along, we had opened a variety of windows on her computer, which involved an equal variety of logins. When we completed our tasks, we shut the machine down and went about our day.

Later that afternoon, C jumped onto Facebook and sent a direct message to a mutual friend, inviting her on a double date. Little did she know, we had not completely logged out, and C was still logged on as yours truly. So the invite came from me, tagged with my name, and asked the invitee to join me and J on a double date. Trouble is, I am married to M. The invitee, I'll call her D, then sent me a direct message responding to the invitation, and inviting me to a gourmet pot luck. Interestingly, she did not refer to my seemingly suspicious choice of companion, which I suppose was rather Gracious of her.

I was a bit baffled by the whole thing, so I pondered for a moment. Right about then, C figured out the snafu, got in touch with both of us, all of us had a good laugh over it. Fortunately, no catastrophic consequences ensued, but it certainly taught me a good lesson about logging out!

And a few other issues arose out of this contretemps:

1. The invitation issued to me by D is called into question; she may have invited me in response to the double date invite that seemed to come from me, but didn't. What's a Grace to do? Well, an invitation is an invitation. RSVP promptly and either go with gusto or decline Graciously.

2. I am going to have to have a word with the hostess; she is a marvelous cook and I have no doubt that the evening will indeed be 'gourmet' and supremely elegant, but she needs to eliminate 'pot luck' from the headline. Graces strenuously avoid events described as 'pot luck'--the term conjures up scary images of molded Jell-o and tuna casserole.

3. In general, when you receive a message that seems to be intended for someone else, it's best to alert the sender ASAP. A version of "I'm not sure this was intended for me", "wrong number?" or "???" do the trick.

Be careful out there, Graces. The real world is enough of a minefield; now we've got to worry about Cyber-space, too.