Jealous and Hating It

Dear Jealous,

Oh, dear. Well, first, one will tell you to put the gun down. Right now. No ... NOW. DOWN. ... Yes, and the scissors, too. Step away from the closet and dresser ... There. Isn't that better? After all, no matter how upset you may feel about this situation, risking prison is really terribly unwise, and your boyfriend is unlikely to take the destruction of his quite expensive wardrobe very well.

One wonders: if this person was simply a close friend, and not an ex, would you be quite so upset? After all, people do have some quite close friends.

But still. As this is a former amant, and not merely a friend, one suggests that you might talk to your boyfriend to let him know how insecure you're feeling. The two of you may find some compromise, such as your boyfriend agreeing to see his former amant one or two times less per week. (Your side of that compromise, One is afraid, would likely to be to agree to however much telephone contact they might like.)

One also requests that you look at the words you have written to One. For all their chatter and seeming closeness, you yourself say that they seem to have surprisingly little in common. Their talk seems to be on interests you yourself do not share with your partner, judging from your lack of interest in them. Your significant other can never share each and every interest with you; that would, after all, make them a very peculiar sort of clone.

In any event, one advises you to talk to your partner, and see if you can work this out. One does warn you, if you can't work out something this simple, relatively speaking, you may be in for a difficult time ahead.

(Oh, dear. One's Social Secretary is positively insisting on commenting, and on being quoted directly. If he weren't such a very good Social Secretary, One would never so indulge him. But so. He says, and One quotes:

Just get the hell over yourself, will you? They're not screwing around, he comes home to you, he loves you and shares most of his life with you. You begrudge him a few hours a week? What sort of control freak are you, anyway?

Er ... well, yes. One did mention that the Social Secretary is quite ... forceful, didn't One? Yes.

Sincerely,

Mr PostManners

Baffled Bride

Dear BB,

As One has noted before, an unfortunate decline in modern manners means that people frequently spend a great deal of time tracking down responses to invitations, just to make certain that people are or aren't arriving. It is sad, but it is one of those duties that must be done. Normally, you would be able to assume that people living a long distance away would not be coming, but One would hate to tell you just how many times One's friends have been surprised by relatives and accquaintances appearing at a wedding (and more aggravatingly, the reception dinner), even when they live a great distance away, because it would make a lovely little weekend trip or they decide at the last possible minute that it would be nice to have a little visit with old friends or relatives. Thus, it is best not to make assumptions. (Except to assume that you'll have a few unexpected attendees and a few people who confirm but then unexpectedly don't appear. This will happen no matter what you do. Alas.)

In general, it's best to set your personal deadline for the return of the cards to be at least one or two weeks before the caterer's deadline, if it happens to be relevant to your situation. Later than that, and the caterer may be unable to make changes to their arrangements.

As for who should call ... very technically speaking, it should be the people who are hosting the wedding. That is, if your invitations and announcements are of the form, "The parents of Baffled Bride hereby announce/invite you to the wedding of Our Dear Daughter and Her Befuddled Groom", then the parents technically should do the calling, as they're the ones who are making the arrangements. Similarly, if the bride and groom are hosting themselves -- that is, if the announcements are of the form, "Baffled Bride and Befuddled Groom are pleased to announce their wedding on Wednesday, March 17...", then the bride and groom are technically the ones who would make the calls. More practically, it might be better to divide up the calls based on who knows the recipient best. If it's one of the bride's friends who failed to return the card, the bride should call; if it's one of the groom's friends, he should call. If it's one of those relatives that You/He Absolutely Did Not Want to Invite But My/His Parents Insisted, then the appropriate set of parents should call. Divide up the work and spend a day or two having a calling party. It's a nice way to divide up the stress. Especially since some of the respondents are certain to be aggravatingly uncertain about their future plans.

Yours invitingly,

Mr PostManners

My question has to do with propriety. To wit: how do you tell if someone is pretty, witty, and gay?

At a recent party, I had reason to converse with a handsome, charming man. He sparkled, he was witty, I sparkled back, all was well. We talked in great detail about the latest musicals on the Great White Way. I thought this was A Clue. After all, in this day and age, what red-blooded heterosexual man would admit to knowing about musicals, let alone in detail?

Imagine my surprise as, just as I was about toask him for a date, a woman walked up, took his arm, and asked what we were talking about. He introduced me to her as his wife. His wife! I was shocked, I tell you.

Unfortunately, this situation has happened to me more than once. So my question to you, sir, is: in the absence of any proper code, how does one tell?

Yours in confusion,

Quandary in Quad Cities

Dear Quandary,

..... Oh, dear.

Well, really, the best way to "tell" is to simply ask.

Now, before you protest that this would be possibly a way to insure damage to your bodily integrity, please, hear One out. One is most emphatically NOT advising you to simply walk up to the nearest man that appeals and say, "So, you gay or what?" (Although, really, it would be a much more pleasant world if you could do that without fear, wouldn't it? But One digresses.)

Traditionally, people have used all sorts of coded approaches. People used to talk about "friends of Dorothy", but these days, not only will a great many gay people be clueless, a great many straight people actually do know what that means. Thus, it has fallen into disuse. People, as you well know, used to be able to assume that men who knew about musicals was "a friend of Dorothy". However, as you have discovered, knowledge of musicals is broader than one might expect. (One points out that, economically speaking, musicals couldn't survive on Broadway if more heterosexual people than homosexual people didn't go to see them. Really, there are very few sections of the economy that would survive otherwise.) Some have even tried quoting certain lines from old movies -- "Love to kiss you, but I just washed my hair!" or "Fasten your seatbelts; it's going to be a bumpy night," or even the two lines from Whatever happened to Baby Jane:
-- You wouldn't be doing this to me if I weren't in this chair.
-- But you ARE, Blanche, you ARE!
Tragically, this method has foundered on the shoals of the rapid expansion of film societies, and the availability of older movies in various video formats. (One's Social Secretary is egging One to point out that the first time anyone tried this line on Mr Postmanners, One's response was not the correct "But you ARE" line, as One had not yet seen the film in question. One actually said, "But I'm not doing anything to you, and you're not sitting down. What on earth are you talking about?" There was much confusion. Happily, One hired One's social secretary anyway, and he has done much to expand One's repertoire of old films.)

And, of course, there are Europeans, who confuse the entire issue. European men are very touchy-feely, by comparison with Americans -- except for the British, of course, who won't touch anyone without express, and sometimes strongly repeated, invitation. Strong American men have been known to suddenly bellow, "Stop touching me!" at the top of their lungs, and then to run off weeping after half an hour in the presence of certain Europeans. Even when they don't go to such extremes, it's sometimes amusing to watch manly American men get quite twitchy in the presence of European men who seem to have 67 hands. (No, One is not always nice. Although One is always scrupulously correct. Politesse, toujours politesse.) Europeans are also considerably less concerned with appearing stereotypically manly. Thus, confusion reigns.

In other words, there is no longer any sure code in the world. It is no longer possible to make assumptions founded in a shared, very small and specific knowledge base. Horrors! What is one to do? (That being you, of course, and not Oneself, as One does not need to worry about such things. One's Social Secretary keeps One heavily scheduled and thoroughly exhausted. But One digresses.)

So, you may well be wondering, what exactly is one supposed to ask, then? And One says, you should ask them about their lives. In general, especially in social situations, people really don't mind talking about themselves. If their interests appear to be congruent with yours, ask if their significant other shares their interests. (People seldom get horrified if you make the default assumption that they are heterosexual. Depending on the surroundings, of course. Making that assumption at a meeting of the local chapter of the Human Rights Campaign would just be silly. But One digresses.) Ask if they have children. (Given the recent explosion in gays and lesbians actually reproducing, this may be singularly uninformative in some ways. However, it's always good to know if someone in whom you are interested has children, isn't it?) Ask about their pet dog or cat, for heavens sake. Ask about their hobbies. Ask about their opinions of noncontroversial current events. At worst, you will run into a deeply closeted person who will give out no information at all ... and who wants to deal with them? At best, you will find a kindred spirit. And you may well find a straight person with whom you can have a friendship, and that's not a bad thing, is it?

One should note that this method may not work well with Europeans. For all their touchy-feeliness by comparison with Americans, Europeans are frequently appalled at the ease with which Americans, Canadians and especially Australians frequently share what they consider to be very personal information with complete strangers. Such questions are frequently met with polite horror. Tread carefully.

(One's dear friend Gabriel was reading over One's shoulder while One was composing this response, and advocated many more, shall we say, forceful methods of determining these facts. One will not be recounting these methods for you as every single one of them is unwise, at least three of them are possibly illegal, and one of them is anatomically improbable. Although given the recent prevalence of low-rise hiphugger pants, one of the methods could actually be excused as an accident these days, and how often would you think that would be possible?)

Sincerely,

Mr Postmanners

When you are in a receiving line at after a wedding, what exactly do you say to the bride and groom? What do you say to the parents of the participants? Is there some protocol for handling all of this? I had heard that there was a specific sex-defined way to handle this, but surely we're past that in this day and age!

Sincerely,

Confounded in Connecticut

Dear C in C:

One must sternly inform you that when it comes to weddings, society will always and forever have forms and protocols divided by sex that will never make sense to the participants or observants. For example, why aren't women allowed to catch the bridal garter? Why aren't men allowed to try for the bouquet? Some things Simply Are. As it turns out, receiving line etiquette, up to a point, is one of these things.

Traditionally, you are supposed to give your "best wishes" to the bride and "congratulations" to the groom. The concept is that "congratulations" implies that someone has won a prize or caught something, and it is somehow impolite to imply that the bride "caught" her husband. Yet it is entirely polite to imply that the groom "caught" the bride. One has no idea why. (Although it may go some way to explaining the rather odd sense of tittilation people seem to feel at watching "The Bachelorette" where she is quite obviously doing the "fishing", as it were, and throwing back the small ones. But one digresses.) However, if you wish to be entirely neutral about the whole thing (and One can applaud such a desire), it is also entirely proper to give your "best wishes" to both the bride and groom.

As for the rest of the people in the receiving line, you should remember that one of the goals of such a line is to acknowledge everyone that has attended the wedding, and to do so quickly. Also, depending on your relationship to the bride and/or groom, a few of the people in the receiving line may not have the foggiest idea who you are. Therefore, the most effective sort of thing to say is, "Hello, I'm C in C and I work with Bride (or Groom) at Workplace/went to school with them/met them through friends, etc." They will respond with "How do you do" or "Nice to meet you" or "I've heard so much about you" or some such, and you smile, nod politely, and move on to the next person.

After the recent ending of my longterm relationship, I've recently started dating again. Prior to the beginning of that relationship, I was never what you'd call a big dater, or even terribly popular. I determined that now that I was out of my relationship, I would leave myself open to new experiences. And now somehow -- and I'm not quite sure how this happened -- I seem to be dating five men at once. I've been up-front with all of them that I have been seeing others, and nobody seems to mind, but now it's becoming quite confusing.

I've been on dates with all of them. Some of the dates have lasted until the next day, if you take my meaning. Of the five, one is an old friend, whom I think I would like to return to that category. Is there any way other than the tired, "I think we should just be friends" speech to manage that? After all, that speech usually means "Go away, I never want to see you again," and I really don't mean that.

As for the others ... well, I'm just not sure. I could give the "Let's be friends and go away forever" speech to one of them, and not be terribly upset if he actually went away forever. The others all have wonderful qualities, and I could happily start a relationship with any of them ... but not with all of them! I don't have the time! I don't have the endurance! How do I choose any one of them (or possibly two if I'm feeling ambitious), and how do I tell them of my decision?

Sincerely,

Overextended in Overton Park

Dear Overextended,

Well.

One should confess immediately that the Postmanners staff is severely divided on this issue. One's social secretary is convinced that it's all merely a matter of scheduling. (Well, that would be his outlook, wouldn't it?) One's dear friend and periodic advisor Gabriel is convinced that you merely underestimate your endurance, and that it's all a matter of training, as well as scheduling. Them, you understand, not necessarily yourself. Although he does recommend increasing your aerobic exercises to be on the safe side. (Gabriel married an entire militia. One is not sure that he would be reliable, or even vaguely typical, in matters such as these.)

As for Oneself ... One thinks that you should just decide which man (or men) you want, and go for it. Talk to the one you would like to keep as a friend, and determine his feeling on this relationship. You may discover that he feels the same -- these things are often mutual -- or that with a great deal of talking, you can discover the things between you that would let you remain friends after you kiss him off ... er, that is, after you tell him regretfully that you no longer desire his intimate affections. That said, you should also allow him some time without contact, if he so desires, to get over his disappointment at the way the relationship turned out. After all, the "lets be friends" speech, no matter how sincerely meant, is not easy to hear when unprepared for it.

As for the ones you with whom you wish to maintain a more intimate relationship, be certain that they know about your ground rules for nonexclusive relationships, if that's the way it falls out. After all, it would be awful to be in an intimate situation with one man and have the other unexpectedly appear, should you have given him the keys to your apartment, and the yelling and tumult could be just horrendous.

Not that One would have any experience of such things, of course. One always conducts One's relationships with the utmost probity and candor. (One's social secretary also has a very big and somewhat painful paddle. Leather covered wood. With metal studs. Not that One would need this motivation to keep one's affairs orderly. One is just saying.)

Yours in friendship,

Mr Postmanners

Recently, I attended the wedding of a family member. While I was there, my parents started pressing me to marry. Of course, they know that I am, shall we say, not exactly heterosexually inclined -- my father likes to say that I was waving a rainbow flag in the womb. (I then point out that the flag would have been awfully uncomfortable for Mum. She then agrees that it was. It's all very traditional. But that's beside the point, isn't it?) They also know that I am in, to put it mildly, an untraditional relationship with more than one partner. They know all of this and are pressing me to marry, or at least have some sort of commitment ceremony, nonetheless.

It turns out that they want me to marry my partners so that they can have an opportunity to hold an emormous wedding that will make the rest of the family green with envy. All of my cousins have gotten married (some more than once), and each of them has had a wedding even more grand than the last one. And here my parents sit, weddingless and enduring the snide comments of their brothers and sisters. I gather that it's gotten quite annoying. Luckily, I live a few hours away, so I haven't been around to hear most of this.

The problem is, I don't want a commitment ceremony or wedding of any sort. Even if I wanted a wedding, none of the people with whom I'm in a relationship want a ceremony. None of them would even come with me to this one!

Please, sir, tell me, what do I do?

Yours most sincerely,

Panicked in Pittsburgh

Dear Panicked:

Alas, one knows all too well how difficult it can be to resist the pressures of one's parents. One's own mater was quite importunate when she realized the ... er ... precise nature of one's relationship with one's social secretary. Then again, she has always been a stickler for the proprieties.

One must admit, one would like to see a wedding with several principals, as it were, just to see how it's done. Alas, this is one event that has somehow escaped One. In any event, one is afraid that when the parents have their hearts set on ceremony and pageantry, one may do nothing but endure patiently. (Though One's Social Secretary foght back by telling One's mother all about One's sexual predilections. One was frightfully annoyed. Besides, One could have told One's social secretary that One's mother had appalled One frequently with the depth and breadth of her familiarity with sexual expression. One's poor social secretary was quite pale for the rest of the day. But One digresses.)

One can but tell you to grit your teeth and bear it. And send your regrets to family weddings.

Regretfully yours,

Mr Postmanners.

I am in a relationship with someone which I hope will develop into something long term. However, recently, I discovered my significant other doing something that disturbed me. One night, I awakened to discover that he wasn't in bed any longer. I rose and searched through the apartment for him. I discovered him in the living room, inhaling the scent off my leather jacket. At first, I was flattered--after all, it's nice to know that someone likes the way you smell. Then I realized that he was saying "I love you" over and over again. Unfortunately, I can't tell if he was rehearsing to say the same thing to me, which he has never done, or if he has developed a deep and sincere relationship with my black leather jacket. How can I tell? How do I ask? How do I respond if I discover him whispering sweet nothings to my coat again?

Yours most sincerely,

Lost in Leather

Dear Lost:

There is no doubt that "I love you, too," is the only really acceptable reply to "I love you." Acceptable to the lover, that is. Of course, since he seems to be saying it to inanimate objects and not to your undoubtedly thrilling self, then one suspects that he isn’t demanding a reply. Unless, of course, he is just trying it out as a proxy, hinting about his true feelings toward you. (One confesses that one is a devout romantic. One’s social secretary would dispute this fact, since said person has called one many other quite unprintable names on more than one occasion -- degree of unprintability depending on the particular activity in which we may be engaged, of course. But one digresses.)

It is, of course, possible that he feels both love for you and love for leather. Many a young man has been confused by his attraction to the accoutrements, and been unable to determine whether or not it is the man or the trappings.

First, of course, one advises that you simply ask him. This is always the simplest path. Of course, it is also the most fraught path; after all, he could always say that he really does only love you for your jacket.

Second, you can always decide to encourage his love of you through his love of leather. One has discovered that the cross your heart harness is almost always a fail safe item. (Of course, this assumes that you have the build and/or the chutzpah to wear such an item.) One has been told by one's social secretary that one looks quite fetching in one's leather pouch. And one's social secretary looks quite lovely in his chaps, wearing nothing beneath, brandishing his studded paddle and shouting, "Who's your daddy! who's your daddy!" ... Ahem. Yes. Well. I digress. The point is that by intertwining his love of leather with his love for you, soon you can encourage an entirely codependent relationship!

One suspects that the best path, however, would be to ask The Question first. If you receive an affirmative answer, then you can go forward with the leather.

Floggingly yours,

Mr PostManners

Sincerely, Committed in Cuyahoga County.

Oh, dear.

One has not had such a difficult question to answer in at least a day or two.

First, a small wedding is one of those highly variable events. One has seen small weddings with as many as three hundred people. One has also seen weddings where only the parents of the participants, as well as the best man and woman of honor were present. Reasonably speaking (and weddings are seldom reasonable), anything smaller than 150 people is a "small" wedding.

Invitations should always be issued upon white cards, with engraved printing. ENGRAVED, do you hear? None of this "embossed" nonsense. One has had to speak quite sternly to one's friends when one has received embossed invitations; after all, one's friends should know better than to send embossed invitations to ONE, given One's profession. And One advises you to acquire several invitations more than you think you will need, as it is almost inevitable, once the guest list goes over two, that you will remember people that you have forgotten, and to whom you simply MUST send invitations.

As for the white tie and tails .... well .... One supposes that it is your wedding, after all. But you would not catch One in White tie and tails ... well, ever, if one could avoid it. (One must admit that One does not look One's best in them.) Certainly not at a daylight gathering, in any event. As you say you have been living together for some years, One hopes that at least you can find off-white, for obvious reasons. (Properly speaking, for a wedding at that hour, you should wear morning coat and pinstriped pants. But One understands that you have dreams, that you have envisioned your wedding a certain way ... even though that way may have nothing to do with actual etiquette. One would sigh Heavily, but One is used to such things, after so long as an etiquette maven.)

Recently, my significant other and I decided to introduce the concept of "toys" into our bedroom. If you know what I mean, and I think you do.

Now. I'm perfectly amenable to, shall we say, insertable toys. When they are of a reasonable size. However, the toy that my partner wishes to introduce into our bedroom is the size of ... well, it would be entirely at home on a large elephant. And not only does it vibrate, but it twists and twirls and turns and is altogether too active. I was able to persuade my partner to put away the toy for the night (my jaw still hurts), but I fear that it may make a reappearance. How do I persuade him that perhaps we should start with something a shade more reasonable?

Sincerely,

Not That Kinky

Dear NTK,

One is reminded of a tale from one's dear friend Gabriel, who brought such a toy into his bedroom after the bloom had gone off his marriage to his militia. (It took about a month.) Of course, Gabriel is gifted with a silver tongue, and was easily able to persuade them of the benefits of such a device, since which time, they've all been walking and sitting quite ... gingerly.

Since your partner has not been able to so persuade you, one must assume that he is not so gifted. Therefore, there are two paths you can take:

First, you can simply tell your partner that you feel that this particular toy is inappropriate for a "starter", as it were, but that perhaps you might be more comfortable with it at a later date. (This presumes that you would be more comfortable with it at a later date. Otherwise, just stop at "inappropriate" and see what happens. You may be dealing with his disappointment for some time to come. One understands that there are exercises that you can do to strengthen and stretch your jaw muscles.)

Alternately, you can simply bring in what you would feel to be an appropriate object and demonstrate its proper use on yourself or your partner, should he be so amenable. (One must admit that this way may be rather fraught, however. One's social secretary once bought something called an AccuJack into one's house. One had to be quite forceful in stating that one was not prepared to place into such an intime portion of one's self an object the size of a Volkswagen. However, when one tried to demonstrate the use of a similar but rather smaller object, one's social secretary went off in a huff. One had to try quite hard to persuade him. Parts of One were quite sore for weeks afterward. But one digresses.)

Yours in Toyland,

Mr PostManners.

Waiting to be Wedded

Dear Waiting,

Well. To begin: using a wedding invitation to induce a heart attack is an unworthy goal. You should be ashamed of yourself. Ashamed, do you hear? (That said ... One can understand your view. But One never said that!)

You should NEVER put "and Guest" on an invitation to ... well, anything, really, but especially a wedding! For one thing, people are entirely too apt to somehow put a little S at the end of that "Guest", and suddenly, you're entertaining a football team in addition to everyone else. (Although it is quite thrilling watching One's Social Secretary herding all those big, burly people with his whip and paddle and getting them properly in line ... but One digresses.) The general concept is, if you don't know the Guest well enough to invite them personally, what on earth are they doing at your wedding? It is not only your day, but one to be shared with those you are close to. How close to them can you be if you don't know their names? (One's dear friend Gabriel is reading over One's shoulder and saying, "What on earth are you talking about? I married a whole militia! How could I know all their names?" One is ignoring him. After all, how often does a person marry an army?)

For wedding invitations, the general form when you are hosting yourself (which, technically, you cannot do, but never mind) is, "Miss Blissfully Happy and Mr Shell Shocked but Thrilled invite you to attend ... " Given your situation, of course, it will be more along the lines of "Mr Shell Shocked and Mr Even More Shell Shocked invite you to attend ...." (or whatever your specific wording is -- once upon a very long time ago, there was a specific format for such things, but One notes that these modern young people have changed things ever so much ... In any event, for second weddings [and up], it is traditional for those involved to give themselves away, invitationally speaking, rather than stating, "The parents of Mr Shell Shocked invite [or announce] ...").

For wedding announcements -- that is, you neither expect nor necessarily desire the recipient to attend -- you do not include the RSVP envelope and card, and the wording says something like "Mr Shell Shocked and Mr Even More Shell Shocked are pleased to announce their wedding on such and such a date at such and such a place ... and so forth." If there are those (relatives, usually, somehow) who must be notified, but whom you wish to be *certain* that some will not attend, the announcement is tactfully mailed the day before the wedding, so that it will not arrive in time. If said relative complains, the bride or groom merely says, "Oh, no! Perhaps it was lost in the mail. I'm ever so sorry!" Repeat as needed until said relative is sufficiently soothed. (If you are being very good, you don't even mention where you are registered. Given the opening line of your letter, one wonders ...)

As for the delivery method of the aforementioned invitations ... One notes that proper etiquette prefers mailing -- it is more formal, which is preferred for weddings. (Actually, very proper etiquette prefers them to be hand delivered on a silver salver by footmen. You wouldn't happen to have a footman or two, would you? Oh, well ...) On the other hand, hand delivery is more personal. Etiquette is generally somewhat forgiving either way. If you do hand them to a select few individuals, please make certain that they are never handed out in the presence of those whom one will NOT be inviting to the event. To do so is the adult equivalent of a playground taunt: nyah! it's my wedding and you're not invited! Of course, the other important consideration in these things is the date. If there is not sufficient lead time, handing invitations to everyone within reach may be the only plausible solution for the harried bride and groom. (Or grooms ... Wait, that wasn't entirely what One meant to say, was it? Oh, well, you know what One means.) One notes that etiquette is flexible enough to accommodate these situations, as once upon a time, it was not unusual for the bride to be marching down the aisle while in active labor. In fact, One notes that it's not all that unusual today. (Of course, this will not be your situation. One was just saying.)

Regarding a ... a card for the RSVP. Well. Properly speaking, in the Days of Auld, anyone you invited to a wedding would be drawn and quartered rather before they would do anything other than send a lovely handwritten message on their personal stationery, responding with appropriate enthusiasm or regrets. Alas, that day has gone. So. Today's Proper wedding etiquette demands --*demands*, do you hear One? -- that you include an RSVP card in your invitation! You place a small card and envelope (stamped, even) inside, pre-addressed back to yourself. (Ideally, pre-*printed* back to yourself, although that is not an etiquette requirement, as such; but how many times do you REALLY want to write your own address?) You will be delighted to know that, unlike many things that happen along the wedding path; the RSVP card has an impeccable logic behind it: if you give your invitees preprinted responses and preprinted and stamped return envelopes, they are slightly more likely to actually return it, thus enabling you to know who may be coming. (One emphasizes: *slightly* more likely. One hopes that you are planning to spend a week or two before the wedding calling those who haven't returned the card.)

If you are allowing your invitees to bring guests, you will be tempted to have response cards with a line underneath the name of the invitee, reading "and Guest" where the name of anyone they would like to bring may be written. RESIST THIS TEMPTATION! One cannot emphasize that enough! (See "Football team" above.) One has heard that some use the style, "Invitee and _____ [name of Guest]") and even those who provide a check box next to the "and guest"; since balancing the genders at the reception is no longer a concern, some feel that the guest's name is irrelevant. One shudders -- shudders, do you hear!? -- at the very thought. For one thing, One feels that this is short sighted; how can those holding the reception have place cards printed if they do not know the names of everyone who will be coming? Without place cards, how will all the guests be able to pretend to know each other's names when many of them will be complete strangers to one another? Really, the decline in modern weddings ... One is frequently quite appalled. But One digresses.) The RSVP card either has a blank space where the invitee writes their name, or, if you are thinking ahead, has the name pre-inscribed thereupon. (After all, the happy couple really do need to know who's responding, don't they?)

As for the reception ... Well. One must just gird one's loins and admit it. When One was a young etiquette maven, One ... One ... One made a ... a MISTAKE! (Oh, the shame, the horror ...) At one time, one advised a supplicant ... er, that is, a correspondent that it was entirely proper to have a reception line at a church. One was thoroughly toasted by one's fellow mavens at the following year's Association of Mavens of Etiquette annual meeting. One went back and did one's research (which One should have done first, of course), so let One put the record straight: at formal weddings, the receiving line is at the reception, and not at the church. You are not supposed to be technically able to invite people into God's house (a formal invitation requests that people attend the *reception*, with an insert card telling them where the ceremony is) which all may attend, and therefore you are not supposed to thank them for attending the wedding at god's house, either. (That said, many people getting married ignore that rule for the understandable reason that it's just far easier to handle it at that time, when everyone wants to congratulate everyone else anyway. But they shouldn't. And One was wrong wrong wrong, do you hear?)

One is SO embarrassed. One simply doesn't know what to do.

Perhaps One should do penance with One's social secretary ..... After all, he's already dressed for the occasion, and showing that lovely studded paddle to Gabriel ....

Yours flagellantly,

Mr. PostManners

Nuzzler in New Jersey

Well? And? The problem would be?

Oh, all right. One understands the problem perfectly well. The maiden in question has a perfect sense of propriety and how to behave in public, and perfect propriety always produces a desire for perfect impropriety. It was ever thus. Somehow, it always seems that a person who believes firmly in Public Displays of Affection winds up with another who sincerely believes that such PDAs are in poor taste. (The colloquialism "PDAs" makes the occasional kiss on the sidewalk sound like one of those handheld computers, doesn't it? One's Social Secretary informs One that they are alarmingly convenient devices. However, One digresses.) One believes that this is evidence of the absolutely perverse sense of humor of the gods of the universe. (That along with the fact that men and women reach their ... er ... well, One must just say the words, mustn't one? The fact that men and women reach their peaks of sexual desire, as it were, not only at the opposite ends of the fertility spectrum -- ages eighteen and forty-five, respectively -- but also at opposite ends of the day. Men tend to ... er, desire, as it were, in the morning, while women seem to prefer evenings and nights. But again, One digresses.)

Also, One feels pressed to note that merely being in a room of people who know perfectly well what happens when you canoodle with your Canadian is not sufficient excuse. After all, you know perfectly well what happens when your parents canoodle -- you got into this world somehow, after all -- and you wouldn't want to see that, would you? ... Well, would you? ... One thought not. There are limits.

The other problem with public canoodling, of course, is that it is entirely possible to go Just That Bit Too Far, and you may find yourself with an attractively undone blouse or shirt, a certain someone nibbling on your neck, perhaps seductively murmuring your upcoming social schedule into your ear in that wonderfully low voice, maybe with his hand down the back of your pants, and the other hand ... Ahem. Yes. Well. At which point it is not unusual to be rudely interrupted by somewhat surly people in uniform. Alas. (Never canoodle in public in Alabama. One is just saying.)

Of course, the rules of etiquette are firmly on the side of the Canadian in question. Politesse requests -- nay, demands -- that people refrain from such displays in public. Ideally, when asked to cease and desist, you should cease and desist, whilst making eyes and otherwise apprising your Canadian of what you would like to do when you are together in private. Really, some people just have no idea of how to properly tease. (Although it sounds like your Canadian has quite a good idea of that, actually. But One digresses. Again. One is just replete with digression today.) However, one is resigned to the fact that people will ignore the demands of etiquette to do what they will. Not happy about it, but resigned.

Very well. Mr PostManners will help you just this one time, but you MUST promise to behave yourself properly when behaving improperly!

The proper way to ... er ... canoodle in public, as it were, is to hold hands. This is an unobjectionable behavior even under the most stringent demands of etiquette. On the occasional moment, overwhelmed by passion, you might even gently brush your lips across the back of your Canadian's properly gloved hand. (She does wear gloves, one hopes. A person with such a wondrous sense of propriety really should. It makes impropriety ever so much more enjoyable later! But you did not hear that from One!) Then, at moments when your hands are hidden from public view -- perhaps under her wrap on her lap or with your hands behind one or the other of you -- you might perhaps trace a little pattern on the palm of your Canadian or draw a line or two with your finger on the back of the hand or ... well, what your hands get up to when nobody can see them is not officially Etiquette's business. (If you are so imprudent as to be caught, Etiquette will officially disavow any knowledge of your actions.) However -- and one cannot stress this strongly enough -- public lip contact is NOT allowed by etiquette!

That said, if you are in an environment that encourages mass canoodling ... well, one can only try to wear down one's Canadian and hope for the best. Or not, as the case may be. (One would actually encourage all Canadians to stand firm for Etiquette, but one knows how tempting impropriety can sometimes be. Alas.)

(Er ... where would one find one of those publications that you mentioned ...?)

Yours most properly,

Mr Postmanners.

One understands that there may be a question or two about where One has been. Well ... actually, One isn't entirely sure about all of it.

One discovered, after having published columns to great acclaim, that said columns had been cancelled. One discovered this by reading the announcement of this cancellation in the etiquette trade dailies, as One's publisher did not have the courtesy to mention it themselves. Hmph! the NERVE!

In any event .... well, One must just gird one's loins and manfully state the facts.

One went on what One is informed is called "a bender". One isn't entirely sure how long it lasted, but when One finally pulled Onesself out of One's funk, One discovered that One's social secretary and also one's dear friend Gabriel had dragged the toasted etiquette maven to Europe for an extremely extended vacation, to travel and more usefully forget one's sorrows.

And, of course, Europe was lovely and ancient, and there were buildings with crumbly bits and paintings of saints suffering hideous fates and statues with just a tad more realism in certain areas than many men would appreciate. One also traveled briefly to the Orient before returning to Europe for one last swing through what one's social secretary insisted on calling "the fleshpots." Whatever that means. We even toured what he called "the dungeons of Amsterdam"! (Er ... One must confess that for some reason, One's memory is perhaps just the teensiest bit fuzzy on what exactly that involved. One has a vague memory of a large studded paddle, a leather g-string, and someone with manacles about the wrist and ankles yelling, "Oh, beat me, daddy, eight to the bar!" Also, large insertable objects seemed to be involved. The next day, One noticed a bit of chafing here and there -- especially there -- and soreness ... elsewhere. And Gabriel and one's Social Secretary had the most remarkable smirks on their faces ... If anyone out there has better memories of this incident, do not tell One! Some things are better left unremembered, yes? Yes.)

In any event, eventually, One decided to come back to One's friends and family. And lo! upon arriving back on friendly shores, One discovered that One's publishing contract had been renewed on thoroughly favorable terms. Apparently, One's public had been demanding One's return!

So. One is BACK. And ready to dispense advise to all and sundry. Especially the sundry. After all, they have the most need of it.

For the edification of future generations, One will be republishing one's past Classic columns along with the new ones, so that one's past wisdom will not be lost to the ages!

Sincerely, Committed in Cuyahoga County.

Dear Committed

One has not had such a difficult question to answer in at least a day or two.

First, a small wedding is one of those highly variable events. One has seen small weddings with as many as three hundred people. One has also seen weddings where only the parents of the participants, as well as the best man and woman of honor were present. Reasonably speaking (and weddings are seldom reasonable), anything smaller than 150 people is a "small" wedding.

Invitations should always be issued upon white cards, with engraved printing. ENGRAVED, do you hear? None of this "embossed" nonsense. One has had to speak quite sternly to one's friends when one has received embossed invitations; after all, one's friends should know better than to send embossed invitations to ONE, given One's profession. And One advises you to acquire several invitations more than you think you will need, as it is almost inevitable, once the guest list goes over two, that you will later remember people that you originally left off the list, and to whom you simply MUST send invitations.

As for the white tie and tails .... well .... One supposes that it is your wedding, after all. But you would not catch One in White tie and tails ... well, ever, if one could avoid it. Certainly not at a daylight gathering, in any event. As you say you have been living together for some years, One hopes that at least you can find off-white, for obvious reasons. (Properly speaking, for a wedding at that hour, you should wear morning coat and pinstriped pants. But One understands that you have dreams, that you have envisioned your wedding a certain way ... One had envisioned a happy life with one's first love, after all. Not that One is not happy in one's current life, of course, with one's social secretary and one's occasional dalliances, solitary and otherwise .... Not that one dallies solitarily, of course. Not at weddings, in any event.)

Yours sincerely,

Mr PostManners