My Two Cents: Resolution No. 9, ed.

Dear Prudence,

I am a twentysomething American musician living in Europe. Part of my job is meeting new people—musicians with whom I play, sponsors, and the audience after a concert. I've been here about a year, and I repeatedly run into the same situation. I'll meet a group of people, we'll chat about two minutes, and someone will make some comment about how my president should be killed (really!) and seems to want to know how much I agree. I don't bring up politics before this happens. Regardless of my political views, I find it offensive to have anyone bring up the subject of how someone else should be killed. I'm still not sure what the best response is to this statement. I don't want to share my politics with a complete stranger, and I don't want to do anything to further any American stereotypes they already have. However, I want to convey how this statement is inappropriate and makes me uncomfortable.
—Speechless in Europe

Dear Yankee Doodle Doofus:

That's the problem with those damn Europeans. All talk, no action.

Look at it this way—if your dad got drunk every night and started firing off a pistol at folks in the neighborhood without coherent justification, you'd expect to catch a ration of shit from the neighbors. There would sure to be talk, at least, of bringing around the dudes in the white coats who ride in the truck with the bell on the side. We made this Procrustean bed, so lie in it you must. Oh, hey, did you hear that while you were gone, "your president" decided that our ancient birthright of habeas corpus and the Constitutional prohibition against torture were now as "quaint" as the Geneva Conventions? You might want to consider staying out there, if they'll have you, liebchen.

As distasteful as it is to contemplate, every single day, somewhere on this planet we all share, people, most likely children or women, are slaughtered by the application of US-sponsored violence, or with a U.S.-provided weapon. Imagine how offended their relatives must feel, digging their charred and dismembered remains out of the rubble. Chances are they didn't bring up politics before being flattened by a drone fired cruise missile, either. Well, we all have our crosses to bear, don't we? Yours is hearing rather normal reactions to a leader that has violated the most simple, basic rules of civilized behavior that we were all taught in kindergarten: don't make up stories; keep your hands to yourself; don't take what doesn't belong to you; clean up after yourself; follow the rules that apply to everyone else—you know, simple basic stuff. As any German or Japanese person can tell you, when a leader gets out of hand like that, our friends and neighbors are, at the least, going to say something about it.

So, what's the appropriate response when civilized people express entirely natural condemnation of the uncivilized behavior of our out-of-control leader? If you don't have the good sense and manners to apologize on our behalf, pretend you're Canadian and appreciate the fact that they're only talking about killing Dear Leader and not the rest of us.

Sic Semper Tyrannis, baby.

Dear Prudence,

I have two terrific grandchildren, ages 12 and 10. They are well-behaved, intelligent, and funny as all get out. My problem is that when they are here for dinner, their table manners are terrible. The 10-year-old eats like a 3-year-old. Food all over her face. She eats with her hands, her head is always hung low so her hair is in her food. The 12-year-old has his head next to his plate and shovels the food in like he was a starving refugee. They talk with food in their mouths and I'm not sure they even chew before swallowing. I'm always correcting them, but I don't want to seem like a nagging grandma. I can't figure out why my daughter hasn't taught them better manners. I couldn't take them to a restaurant because I would be embarrassed. Am I overreacting? Or should I continue to correct this problem? They are here a lot and I like dinner to be relaxed so we can talk about their day.

—Puzzled Grandma

Dear A Shaming Graze:

Man, only a WASP granny would be worried about how food gets in her grandchildren's mouth rather than just the frequency and volume. And well you should. As the above letter sorta relates, civilization has to be taught or it can evaporate faster than you can say, "286 electoral votes for George Bush".

With the insane schedules and work requirements in most families these days, it may be that you're the first adult these kids have ever eaten with. Not only that, but this is the juice box/Lunchables™ generation—most of their diet is either wrapped in a crispy deep fried shell, inserted between sesame seed buns or sucked directly out of a plastic container. They simply don't know any better. Don't despair-- behind every civilized and cultured person has groused a nag. Nagging is a pillar of Western culture—even Plato needed a reminder to wash behind his ears when he was a kid.

Assuming you first instruct them on what are acceptable table manners, you can apply the "carrot-stick" approach. Literally. That is, until they learn to use their utensils and eat with some grace, the only thing they get to eat is carrot sticks (or any raw vegetable, really, like broccoli, cauliflower, green beans and such) like any other barbarian. They can eat them any way they want—with their hands, shoveled into their mouths, slurped through a crazy straw, all they want. Put a whole heaping bowl of celery, carrots and broccoli, peeled, cut and washed, in the center of the table while you have a normal meal, preferably something they really like. Then, when they want what you've got, make each serving dependent on how properly they consume the prior serving. If they regress, back to the carrot sticks. Tell them not to take it personally; you simply can't waste civilized food on uncivilized eaters.

Dear Prudie,

I am in a wonderful live-in relationship with a man I adore. We have one problem that keeps recurring. Occasionally, when we are either engaged in a conversation or watching something on television, I'll make a comment with which he takes personal offense, and he either leaves the room in a huff without saying why, or simply explodes in anger. Most of the time, I'm completely taken aback by this behavior and am unaware that I have said anything "offensive" until he reacts to it, and then I must try to figure out what set him off. My comments usually have nothing to do with him personally, but are merely about what we're watching on television or something he's said in conversation. He feels I'm being overly sarcastic and therefore hostile, and I feel he is excessively sensitive. Many of his friends and relatives feel that he tends to be excessively sensitive and has a tendency to see personal offense where none is intended. He thinks I should be more careful about what I say, but I feel he should be more thick-skinned. I am constantly walking on eggshells to avoid saying something that will unexpectedly set him off. When this has happened in the past, we've discussed it at length afterward, and he usually ends up apologizing for his behavior. Then everything is fine until the next time it happens. And it always does. Should I try to be more aware of sarcastic remarks I may make about something that often has nothing to do with him, or is he simply overreacting?

—Eggshell Walker

Dear Sarcastigated:

MTC has been in a lot of relationships with the "touchy subject" problem. Once it was the issue of Palestinian statehood—the Oslo Accords cost Yitzhak Rabin his life and doodahman some really hot orthodox nookie. In another relationship, it was making any sort of joke about renegade Mormons and their harems of under-aged wives (oh, it's too damn tragic to joke about, apparently). Now who the hell can pass up a wisecrack about an old guy with seven teenage wives? Not this boy.

In those cases, and in most, the subjects are known and predictable—mothers, career choices, former lovers, the goddamn freaking White Sox aaargh—you can avoid those explosive topics if you choose. Or, go straight to them when you want to push a button. But you, madam, are living in a field of land mines—any innocent step and you're Fallujah'd. That's a lot of stress. Unfortunately, the UN will not clear his head for you, so you've got to become your own mine clearing squad. He's biting your head off out of habit, most likely because that's how he releases internal stress or strikes back at an unfair world—with lucky you standing in as the world. It is a sadly common expression of personal impotence for which there is no blue pill to stiffen his… upper lip.

A two-pronged approach is required. First, he's got to deal with the stress more constructively by learning good reduction techniques and/or scoring prescriptions for some mellow-cations (chlonazepam™ and xanax™ work great, if you can get 'em; be sure to consult with a doctor or college sophomore before taking them). Hopefully, a little running, racquetball or more frequent masturbation ought to bring down his ambient stress level. Second, when he does go off the deep end, you have to respond the same way as the world—spin around and completely ignore him. Once he realizes you aren't any more willing to pay his tantrums any mind than humanity as a whole, his outbursts should dwindle to the bi-monthly hissy fit. If they don't, he's got serious problems and you ought to consider blasting off Planet Pissyboy.

Dear Prudence,

How do I inform a co-worker that I don't really appreciate receiving clothes that she no longer wears? This individual has lost a good deal of weight recently, and because I'm rather plump, she has decided that I should be the recipient of her too-large wardrobe. The clothes are nice, and I'm sure she could either sell them through a consignment shop or give them to a charity, but instead she's been bringing them to me. It's as if she's saying, "I'm not fat anymore, but you are, so have some fat clothes." The first time it happened, I was caught off-guard and didn't know how to respond. I just said, "Thanks," and ended up taking the item to a local charity. Since then, I come back from lunch to find neatly folded items on my desk. I don't think the intention is to be insulting, but it's really starting to wear on my self-esteem.

—Thanks, But No Thanks

Dear Spare Attire:

No good deed goes unpunished, huh? Any hand out, be it clothes or canned goods, can be construed as a put down if you look at it that way. Usually, the recipient is silently steaming because he's been made to look like a bum, not a behemoth. MTC watched a friend leave a White Hen one night in the city and automatically hand a dollar to the black dude standing outside. In this case, however, the black dude was waiting for a cab and his rather well dressed female companion was not at all happy that he was mistaken for a bum. Worse yet, the genuine bum, standing on the other side of the door, got violent because his dollar got jacked by the faux bum. It was the first time anyone ever fled the scene of a donation.

There's nothing constructive to be said to her; if the size 11 shoes fit, wear 'em. As you astutely point out, you are "rather" plump and the woman is not doing this with bad intent. Hell, it's not like she's leaving surplus bags of Purina Cow Chow on your desk. There's no future in trying to teach people how to guess what will set you off. There is one, however, in making yourself as happy and healthy as you can be. This is not a condemnation of being fat. Fat happens. Fat people are entitled to feel good about themselves, unless they happen to be sitting on either side of us in an airliner, in which case may they be melted over Satan's hibachi until they no longer spill over the arm rests and envelop us like a thin-person sandwich on blubber bread. This, rather, is a condemnation of projecting your own personal dissatisfaction on somebody who is trying to do something nice, albeit in a somewhat gauche way. If you didn't already have a weight related self esteem problem, you wouldn't have an issue.

So, keep passing on your fashion gravy train to the obese poor, whose self esteem is trumped by their neediness, as always. Then, think about the person on the outside who you really want to be, and go for it. Inside that plump body is a skinny person dying to give their fat clothes to somebody else.