Miss Manners^®

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I moved 10 years ago to a beautiful part of the country. When driving or riding with others, I am frequently startled by incredible scenes -- a massive volcanic mountain that suddenly appears around a corner, lake views where none were expected, bald eagles flying in front of the car.

These sights are so startling and beautiful, and I interrupt whatever conversation is taking place with exclamations. I don’t think I can help myself! “Look! An otter!” “Look at the massive antlers on that buck!” “Ooh, newborn deer twins!” “That eagle is enormous!”

I constantly interrupt conversations, but seriously, how can I not? That glacier wasn’t there a minute ago! Am I rude?

GENTLE READER: Your enthusiasm is charming, as long as it does not overpower the conver -- squirrel!

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am the cook in our family, and I enjoy it very much. Some members of my wife’s family, all of whom are very sweet and loving, recently visited us, and I made dinner for us all.

One of them went way overboard with her compliments, and I was at a loss as to how to handle it.

Her, after the first bite: “Oh, Larry, this pot roast is delicious!”

Me: “Thank you!”

After the second bite: “Oh, my gosh, you are SUCH a good cook!”

Me: “I’m really glad you’re enjoying it.”

Third bite: “Wow, this is really good!”

Me: “Thanks a lot!”

Next bite: “Mmm! This is just so good!”

Me: “And there’s plenty more, so enjoy.”

And on and on and on. Can you help me? This will surely come up again when they next visit.

I mean, I like compliments as much as the next guy, but enough’s enough. Is there a point where I just smile and nod? Do I keep trying to come up with different versions of “thank you”?

GENTLE READER: That, or recite the recipe at such length that she will just have to keep eating without comment.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am an amateur cook and baker. A number of years ago, I completed a hobbyist-level course at a renowned cooking school.

Earlier this year, my wonderful daughter-in-law was charged with arranging a simple, intimate wedding for her father and his fiance. I’m not well-acquainted with the wedding couple, but to help my DIL, I baked and delivered a simple, two-tiered cake to the wedding venue.

After the wedding, I didn’t hear from the couple, but my DIL said several guests complimented the cake.

At a later social event, I saw the couple for the first time since their wedding. In front of several people, he said, “That wedding cake you made was no good. I would have thought the guy who attended a fancy cooking school could have done better than that.”

I was stunned in the moment and didn’t reply. I think my silence was a good response, but was there something I might have said to express my chagrin?

GENTLE READER: “I’m sorry it disappointed you. Your daughter said that other people enjoyed it, but she must have been mistaken.”

(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: My wife and I have a wide circle of friends and an active social life. The vast majority of our friends are very considerate guests and hosts.

But we have one group of friends with a very relaxed approach to socializing. These friends will give noncommittal responses to invitations, accept invitations but cancel at the last minute, or arrive alone and state that their spouse could not make it.

In our book, these were not friends worth having. We stopped issuing invitations to them and stopped accepting theirs to us.

I thought that would be the end of it, until I encountered several members of this group while alone at a function. They approached me and expressed how much they missed us and wanted to see us again. Their entreaty seemed quite genuine, not just a vague “We should try to get together sometime” sort of thing.

Nevertheless, I was unmoved. The most socially acceptable response in such situations is simply to agree but not follow through, but I find it difficult to be insincere. While I am certainly able to express tact, I think even this quality eluded me.

I found myself saying, “Gosh, you know, I don’t really think that is going to work out.” For what it’s worth, I said it brightly and evenly, as if I were declining a bowl of ice cream, then quickly changed the subject to how the evening was going.

After a few more perfunctory exchanges, they left, looking more puzzled than insulted.

I know there are a myriad of ways that I could have handled this situation insincerely, but what else could I have said that would have maintained my sincerity and dignity? Since we concluded that these were not true friends in the first place, should I even really care at this point?

GENTLE READER: Although Miss Manners defends your decision not to socialize with impolite people, this is not license to tell them why. Doing so is rude -- and for that reason, she sees little dignity in the sincerity you seem to prize.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I’m an auto claims insurance adjuster, and occasionally take calls from customers whose loved ones have been killed in an accident. While I can almost always assist with their insurance needs, I don’t know how to end the call.

It feels wrong and insensitive to end the call the way I normally would, with something along the lines of, “Have a great day!” I want to express my empathy, but don’t know what else to say.

What is an appropriate, empathetic and professional thing to say before ending these calls?

GENTLE READER: The empathetic and professional thing to say is, “Once again, I’m sorry for your loss and if there is any further way I can be of assistance, please let me know.”

It is no less appropriate for its lack of originality -- something Miss Manners sees as a virtue, given how badly it often ends when people improvise in an attempt to demonstrate greater feeling.

(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 frequently dine out with a close friend. We are both well into adulthood, but she seems to have missed one element of dining etiquette: that one should cut and eat one piece of food at a time.

If presented with a chicken breast, she will cut it up and mix the pieces with the potatoes and gravy on the plate before beginning to eat. She will cut up a whole pancake and mix it with the syrup, or tear apart a whole biscuit and butter all the pieces.

It is, I admit, aesthetically unappealing, although I abide by the rule of not correcting another adult’s manners. More significantly, her profession sometimes entails dining in formal and diplomatic settings, and I worry that others will judge her unkindly.

Since I cannot correct her, I am hoping that Miss Manners will state the proper approach, and that my friend may read it and recognize the error of her ways.

GENTLE READER: Ah, if only it were that easy.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My brother died in his early 60s of an unknown cancer, just five weeks after diagnosis. His illness and death were likely related to his service in Vietnam.

Yet I have been in the presence of people from that era who brag and even laugh at their “good fortune” at never having to serve there. “Good fortune,” that is, because some of them played fast and loose with health claims or knew a physician who would “doctor” their records. Or perhaps their father knew someone who knew someone, etc. I have been told a variety of strategies to avoid being drafted.

I’m astounded they would talk openly about any of this. I bring up my brother’s service and his death whenever this happens, which leads to a period of discomfort and backpedaling.

I feel I am justified, and that maybe they’ll think twice about bringing up their “good fortune” again. What do you think?

GENTLE READER: We can agree on the bad manners and bad morals being displayed by such people, and you are not asking what Miss Manners thinks of your own behavior. So let us discuss results.

It seems likely that the people you accost will conclude that you, not they, are the problem. If, when you next witness such behavior, you allow yourself to look as distraught as you feel, and quickly and emphatically excuse yourself, you are more likely to cause them to examine their own behavior. And you will have done it without being impolite.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: When I’m seated at a table with other people in a restaurant, and an acquaintance comes over to talk to me, is it OK to stay seated? Or should I stand up to talk, or should the person squat down to my level (which I hate)?

GENTLE READER: If the interloper is being polite, you will not have time to decide: They would only stop long enough to apologize for the interruption and say a quick hello before moving on.

Miss Manners makes no objection to your asking the person to join your party, but, if you do not want to do so, then remaining seated with a beatific smile will help keep any discussion short.

(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.)