DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have several people I am fond of whose more frequent contact with me is e-mail. Occasionally we get together in person, but we keep in touch by e-mail.

Unfortunately, they like to write me only one or two sentences inquiring about my life. I respond with a thoughtful update, usually putting in personal comments about our relationship like "I tried that restaurant you recommended and it was great." Generally no more than two or three paragraphs of interest and addressing a question they might have sent me like "How was the garden expo?"

But I am starting to tire of answering their e-mail with thoughtful responses. I feel like I'm some sort of entertainment. I've tried answering back with a short "I'm doing great, the expo was fun. How is your dog?" hoping they would get the hint. But I fail to get more than a line of "doing fine here."

It would be great if they followed up with a phone call or notes about their lives, but they never do. To be fair, if I initiate the e-mail, I usually get slightly more detail.

It's especially irritating when I haven't heard from them in several weeks and all of a sudden I get a "What are you doing lately?" note, and the expectation is that I write them back with a note that actually takes time to compose. Worse yet, they respond to my note by simply injecting a line or two in the note I wrote. Am I wrong to perceive this as rude? Should I just say "I hope you e-mail me with more detail about your life." Or should I "write them off," literally?

GENTLE READER: As entertaining correspondents, yes. You are not going to be able to train them to write you thoughtful, or even slightly interesting, prose.

But Miss Manners asks you to bear in mind that many people are finding a great deal more entertainment on their e-mail servers than they can stand. By the time they clear out the jokes, snapshots, advertisements and work-related queries, they may not be feeling chatty.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I was invited to my friend's daughter's wedding. By the time I arrived to the reception area, I found out I was wearing the same dress as the bride.

I don't know if I was overdressed or the bride was underdressed for the wedding. I understand it is too late to do anything now. I just wonder what should I do in the future? Should I go home to change into another dress?

GENTLE READER: You could stop wearing long, white, lacy dresses to other people's weddings.

If you were merely unlucky enough to choose a dress or suit that the bride also wore and lived close enough to dash home and change, it would indeed be tactful. Miss Manners considers it unlikely that this will happen again, but if you want to be prepared, you could bring a scarf and a jacket that could be used in a quick attempt to look different.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I brought my neighbor, a well-brought-up young man who recently moved here from a small town to attend college, to his very first opera, "La Traviata."

During the first act, the couple in front of us discussed each duet, the costumes and almost everything else. I tried your patented Miss Manners glare, but as they were in front of us, it had little effect. I tried a subtle "harrumph." Then a bit less discreet throat-clearing. Nothing worked.

In desperation, just before the curtain was to rise on the second act, I turned to my guest and -- in a voice loud enough to carry to the row in front -- said, "I can't believe some people are so rude as to speak during the performance. I am glad to see your parents taught you how to behave at a performance."

I then winked and nodded to the folks in front of us.

He caught my meaning. At the end of the second act, the loud man in front stood, turned around, and began to berate me for implying that he and his wife were misbehaving.

He became so nasty and belligerent, I roused myself from my dumbstruck silence and finally interrupted his rant by telling him to either sit down and remain quiet or I would call an usher (the most severe punishment I can possibly imagine at the opera).

The man responded by grabbing my throat. Fortunately, my guest was quickly able to intervene and the man was removed.

These days, I realize people shout to actors on the screen at movie theaters and one may talk on the phone at a concert with near-impunity. However, I thought the opera was the last bastion of civility.

What are we to do? How can we protect our institutions from this plague?

GENTLE READER: Opera, the last bastion of civility? Miss Manners, who attends alarmingly often, could have disabused you of that fantasy. This is not the first story she has heard of (attempted) murder at the opera in real life.

But there was provocation. The original rudeness did not justify your encouraging further rudeness by denouncing these people in their and others' hearing. The time to call an usher was when he got your goat, not your throat.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: How do you eat poached pears at a formal dinner?

GENTLE READER: With one eye on your dinner partner, so as to make sure you are not sharing the juice.

Miss Manners trusts that you will be properly armed with a dessert fork and a dessert spoon, and you will find yourself grateful to have both.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: It seems my friends are quite willing to meet for lunch, or to do something specific, but I have no luck at all in getting them simply to "visit."

"Visiting" used to be a popular way to see and hear about your friends. It was certainly superior to a telephone call or today's e-mail. Not all of my friends have hectic lives. And I am an interesting person and a very good listener. (I am a retired psychologist.) Do you have any suggestions as to how to encourage the lost art of visiting?

GENTLE READER: Mention the refreshments. Tea, drinks, coffee, popcorn, dessert -- Miss Manners doesn't care what, and neither do your guests. But these are the words we now use to delineate the routine of the short one-on-one visit, which guests need to know.

The old-fashioned "visit" of which you speak had a strict form, with a 15-minute limitation. It survives only in the hospital visit, where your guests ought to know that they should not prolong the stay or help themselves to the chocolates you have been sent.

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