Road Apples by Tim Sanders
May 28, 2012
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Mr. Mannerly Man dishes up more free advice Last week Mr. Mannerly Man and his wife, Mrs. Mannerly Woman, provided a seminar on proper table manners at the Gaylesville Mannerly Man Campus Dining Hall. All of the students in my Dining as a Spiritual Experience 101 class were required to attend, and all three of them did. Mrs. Mannerly Woman and I sat across the table from each other, and I told the students to pay close attention as we demonstrated proper dining etiquette. “Remember,” I told them, “that fine cuisine always tastes better when eaten with elegance and decorum.” “Dearest lady,” I said to Mrs. Mannerly Woman, “if, time permitting, you would be so kind as to see fit to pass the beanie weenies, I would be most appreciative, and forever in your debt.” She smiled, and told me that I’d get no beanie weenies until I stuffed my napkin down my collar so as to keep the bean juice off my shirt, which it was always her unpleasant duty to wash. I complied, and she passed the weenies. “As you can see,” I told the students, “if you have a helpful dining companion like Mrs. Mannerly Woman, things will go very smoothly.” “Tater salad?” she inquired. “I believe I shall,” I replied. “Now watch and listen,” I told my students, “as I pay my hostess a timely compliment. You can never go wrong with a compliment.” I took a bite of the tater salad. “My goodness, dear lady,” I said to Mrs, Mannerly Woman, “as much as I have enjoyed your tater salad in the past, I do believe this is absolutely the very best tater salad you’ve ever served. I must have the recipe!” “I picked that tater salad up at the Piggly Wiggly on the way over here! You were with me, you goober!” she snorted. So I suggested, ever so gently, that Mrs. Mannerly Woman might want to remember that she was in an academic institution and quit acting like a peevish child. I also believe I said something or other about not getting her panties all in a wad over tater salad. That was when the food fight began. I mention all of this only to explain how it is that since all three of my students have dropped my Dining as a Spiritual Experience 101 class, and due to lack of interest, that class will not be offered during the Summer or Fall Semesters. In the meantime, here are some other etiquette questions sent in by actual readers who are every bit as real as Mr. Mannerly Man himself. Q: I noticed that in the Classified Ad section of the May 14 Post, someone wanted to sell a “chester drawer.” What is a chester drawer, and who would want one? A: Technically, this is not an etiquette question, but Mr. Mannerly Man knows for a fact that the ad was a misprint. His friends at the Post tell him that the typist meant to enter “Chester’s drawers,” but there was chewing gum stuck on her “s” key. Apparently someone named Chester has recently passed away, and his widow is selling his underwear. Q: Me and my family finally has somebody graduating this year. I know that the graduation ceremony is very solemn and dignified with them blue bath robes and funny hats with tassels and diplomas and so on, so we want to understand the rules. My question is, when they call Skeeter’s birth name, which is Desmond, do we all jump up and shout “ATTA BOY, SKEETER, WE KNOWED YOU COULD DO IT!” and “WOOOHOOO!” and “THAT’S OUR BABY BOY!” and so on, or do we wait until they hand him the diploma and yank his tassel off? Also his nana she wants to go, but she has the colitis very bad and will probably have to jump up and run to the toilet three or four times like she always does at church and distracts the preacher from his sermon, so should we just tell her Skeeter ain’t graduating because he was helt back again this year? A: Since you mentioned “helt back again,” just how old is “Skeeter?” Q: He was borned the year his momma and me was living up on the mountain and I got them fire ants in my shorts, which was also when his nana took up with them outlanders until one of them got drunk and stole her mule and she–” A: SKEETER'S AGE? Q: Not that it makes no difference, but he’s 26. A: 26? How many times was he “helt back?” Q: I thought I was supposed to be asking the questions. A: This is my column, and I can change the rules whenever I want to. Q: Okay then, Skeeter he weren’t helt back that many times. Truth is me and Desiree we helt him back from kidney garden for five years so he could bulk up and have that extry size advantage over the other childring when it come time for football. Problem was it looked like a good idea for awhile but Skeeter he took after Desiree’s daddy who is a little, wormy man with a big mouth. Skeeter growed like a weed until he got to first grade. He was eleven, but he stopped growing right then and there and never growed another inch. If we’d of knowed he didn’t have a Chinaman’s chance of being no linebacker, we could of sent him on to school and got him out of the house much earlier. He has always been very quick, which is how we come to call him Skeeter because whenever you went to swat him he could run between your legs and across the backyard before you got turned around, but all that quick didn’t count for a hill of beans on the football field when he was only 5 foot and 98 pounds ... so where was we? A: You wanted to know when to shout and cheer at Skeeter’s graduation exercises, and Mr. Mannerly Man was about to tell you that you can jump the pews and shout whenever the spirit moves you. And in Skeeter’s case, a nice, colorful banner and some confetti would probably fit right in. Q: So why do they call them graduation exercises, when nobody on stage never gets no exercise ‘til graduation is over with? A: We have no idea. Mrs. Mannerly Woman probably knows, but she’s not speaking to us. |