You bet your halibut

Word here in Santa Cruz, CA, is that the halibut migration that results in hauls of the yummy fish has arrived early this year. I'm no fisherman, but this news did remind me of one of my favorite Home Front columns from a few years ago. Read it here.

Re-reading it made me miss my sons. Hope it makes you laugh.

Wackos on parade

Do you ever feel you’ve walked into an episode of “The Twilight Zone?” So much weirdness surrounds you that it couldn’t possibly be real?

We who work at home probably get this sensation more than others. We don’t get out much, so we’re less inured to other people’s strange behavior.

The other day, I stopped by a drugstore to shop for sunglasses. When I say “drugstore,” I mean a modern-style drugstore, which is really a department store with a pharmacy in the back. Along with the usual ointments and remedies, my neighborhood drugstore has cosmetics, school supplies, housewares, groceries, a liquor department (my personal favorite), small appliances, DVDs, batteries and a sporting goods aisle, complete with fishing gear.

But that’s not the weird part.

The weirdness came from the customers. While I stooped to a tiny mirror to see how I looked in various sunglasses with large, dangling price tags, I heard so many strange things, I could only assume I’d barged into a “Twilight Zone” set. I kept looking around for Rod Serling.

First came Warren and his mom. Warren was a standard-issue small boy, full of energy and questions and noise. But Warren’s mom was another story. She had the loudest voice I’ve ever heard from a person who wasn’t actively rooting for a sports team.

“Warren! Come over here! Warren! Watch where you’re going! No, Warren, you can’t have that! Warren! Look at this! Warren!”

You could hear her all over the store. She didn’t seem angry or particularly frustrated. Just oh-my-Lord loud. She either had no idea that her voice carries so well, or she was one of those daffy look-at-me types who wanted us all to share in her shopping adventure with Warren.

I’m sure I wasn’t the only customer to wonder about Warren’s future sessions on a psychiatrist’s couch.

Once they left, more yelling distracted me. A middle-aged couple started arguing over a certain product and whether it was cheaper elsewhere. This seemed a minor point to me, but it was enough to set off this happy couple. They screamed and growled and spat like a couple of angry alley cats. The argument went on for several minutes.

I’m sure all married couples have moments of disagreement. Many even get loud. But in public? In a store? Over prices?

Clearly, this was a troubled couple. I could only hope they didn’t have any little maladjusted Warrens at home.

Then a lady walked past me, talking to herself. OK, I know people talk to themselves. I do it all the time at home. But I rarely ask myself questions, then provide the answers. In public.

“Do we need some bread?” this lady muttered. “Yes, I think we do. There’s some bread over there. Hmm. Is this the brand I like? No, it is not. But I guess it’ll do. Now we need some coffee.”

As she wandered off, I thought: Wouldn’t it be easier to make a list?

The sudden lack of distracting conversation allowed me to notice the Muzak, which was playing a song that I hate, hate, hate. The music stopped when an employee came over the speaker to make an announcement. My relief lasted only a moment because, two rows over, a customer took up the tune, loudly whistling. He whistled all the way to the end of the song, including a guitar solo.

That’s when I gave up on buying sunglasses. Better to escape this “Twilight Zone,” even if it meant I’d go around squinting like Rod Serling.

I can always pick up some sunglasses the next time I buy fishing gear.

Comedy of manners

It says something about the state of our nation when an airline has to tell us how to behave, but apparently that’s what it’s come to.

Delta Air Lines Inc. (corporate motto: “What luggage?”) now offers humorous videos instructing passengers how to act during flights. The animated videos, posted online and on flights, show passengers who behave badly, hogging armrests or bumping into others or letting their children shriek.

“We understand what you go through as a traveler,” Delta vice president of marketing Tim Mapes told The Associated Press. “These videos can reinforce, ‘Hey, you don’t want to be that guy.’”

The 25 videos are called “Planeguage: The Language of Traveling by Plane,” and include titles such as “Lav Dance,” about a passenger who bumps everyone along the aisle while returning from the bathroom, “Shady Lady,” which shows a woman who raises or closes her window shade without regard for others, and “Kidtastrophe,” which depicts unruly brats on a plane.

Experts say such basic instruction is necessary because more people are flying now than ever before, including thousands of first-timers who don’t know you’re not supposed to bring live chickens onto the plane.

Instructing these neophytes is more constructive than the reactions of veteran air travelers such as myself: Sighing and eye-rolling when the old lady in line at security says, “We have to take off our SHOES?” or the cowboy insists that his rodeo buckle always gets through metal detectors “Jes’ fine.”

Delta may be onto something here. Maybe we need humorous videos to teach people good manners in other aspects of life. Some suggestions:

“Dysfunction Junction” -- A video about maintaining proper boundaries while discussing family issues. Yeah, yeah, your childhood was terrible. Get over it.

“Hair Scare” -- In this video, women and young men with long hair are taught to pull it back into a ponytail at mealtimes rather than dip it in their soup.

“Hang Up” -- This humorous video shows a motorist chattering into a cell phone while mowing down pedestrians. Funny stuff.

“Shut Up and Eat Your Popcorn” -- This video could star Robert DeNiro in full “Taxi Driver” mode: “You talkin’ to me? You must be talkin’ to me, ‘cause you wouldn’t talk during the movie, right?”

“Queue” -- An animated video of stick figures standing in line, committing violations such as cutting, dallying or coughing on the necks of the persons in front of them. One stick figure corrects this behavior and enforces good manners -- with an ax. Hilarious.

“After You” -- A video about the proper etiquette of the four-way stop.

“Colonel Mustard in the Library” -- No one wants to find mystery stains or inked marginalia in a library book. Get a clue.

“Cracking Up” -- Keep your mouth closed while chewing gum. If you must crack your knuckles, go off someplace by yourself. And, while you’re at it, pull up your pants.

“Face Forward” -- An interactive video in which you get to twist around the heads of NFL quarterbacks who wear their sidelines caps backward.

“Thumpers” -- Rap music, big speakers, too much bass. Need I say more?

“Just Desserts” -- No one wants to hear about your new diet or how much you’ve lost.

“Spam I Am” -- Explores e-mail etiquette, and how users don’t want to hear from you, even if you really are Nigerian royalty.

“That’s Aroma!” -- If I can smell your perfume/after shave, you’re either wearing too much or standing too close.

Table manners for boys

One of our favorite pastimes is eating out, and our two sons have grown up in restaurants. To them, fine dining is no big deal.

These days, it’s rare for all four of us to dine out together. Our boys are on the go with their friends around the clock, and they’re way too busy to spend time in places where there’s no actual skateboarding or Guitar Hero II. Plus, they’re teen-agers and therefore can withstand the presence of their parents for only so many ticking minutes before their heads explode.

Once in a while we lure them out on the town with us, often using pasta as bait, and it’s always a treat to watch them handle themselves well in a restaurant, dealing with waiters and minding their manners.

At times like those, a parent can tear an elbow ligament trying to pat himself on the back, but it’s a good idea to put that fork down first.

Recently, my wife and I had such an outing with our young son. (Where was the older one? I don’t know. I believe he said, “Out.”) We showed up at a nice Italian joint in time for the sunset special, our son bobbing along beside us to a music only he can hear. His long hair hid his face, his posture was a question mark, and he wore an AC/DC “devil horns” T-shirt over pants that looked as if they’d been gnawed away at the knees by attack beavers. The usual.

As soon as we were seated, Mr. Scruffy became Mr. Savoir Faire, ordering with aplomb and using the correct fork and making only one brief joke with the napkin before putting it in his lap where it belonged. He participated in the conversation, didn’t dip his hair in his food, and generally was as pleasant a dinner companion as a person could desire, if that person didn’t mind picking up the tab.

So different from the way I’d see him a few hours later, slumped on the carpet in front of the TV, hooting at “Family Guy” and spooning sticky mint ice cream directly out of the carton.

Both versions are the direct result of his upbringing. From the time our sons were babies, they were drilled in “restaurant behavior.” Things were relaxed at home, where they might be able to get away with certain violations, such as that never-stale sabertooth joke with the asparagus spears. But such behavior doesn’t fly in restaurants.

Yes, it’s a double standard, and yes, it’s probably not the best way to rear children. Strict disciplinarians would argue that manners should be perfect at every meal, but those people are too uptight to enjoy a fine meal anyway, and should just eat tidy pellets like hamsters.

My wife and I were determined to keep dining out, even when the kids were small and couldn’t get through a single meal without knocking over at least one king-sized beverage. We were the only family at the diner where the adults were the ones wearing rubber pants.

Every time, as we entered, the kids got a little lecture about “restaurant behavior,” a reminder to use our best manners while sharing the establishment with other diners, including some who do not want to play “seafood.”

These excursions were stressful, of course, but gradually the lessons took, and on a few occasions, perfect strangers stopped by our table to remark on how quiet and well-behaved our boys were. This usually made us parents burst into tears.

Our answer, then, now and always: “You should see them at home.”

Flushed

So I'm in an airport men's room, relieved at being back on the ground where the restroom is larger than a coffin, when a guy steps up to the next urinal and starts talking.

Now I enjoy a chat as much as the next person, but there were several things wrong with this scenario:

1. I didn't know this guy.
2. I didn't know what the heck he was talking about.
3. We're in the MEN'S ROOM, where I prefer to keep to myself, thank you very much.

Just as I was about to answer -- something along the lines of "Hey, buddy, I'm a little busy here" -- I realize he's not talking to me. On the far side of his head, he's got one of those little "Star Trek" headsets attached to his ear. He's on the phone. Conducting business. In the men's room. Which brings a whole new meaning to the term "hands-free calling."

I had to wonder whether the person on the other end of the call knew this. Wouldn't it be obvious? What about the background noises -- flushes, hand dryers, nose blowers, echoing tiles?
But the biggest question: What was so danged important that Mr. Urinal Phone couldn't wait, oh, 60 seconds to make this call? Was this an emergency? Is his business so precarious that he can't take even a minute for himself? Doesn't he know he's irritating everyone else in the men's room, to the point that we'd like to give him a "swirlie?"

I've grown accustomed to people walking around, apparently talking to themselves. I've learned to tune out all but the most annoying yakkers. But I'm still regularly amazed by the stupid and/or rude stuff people will do in the name of talking on the phone:

--I witnessed a young woman emerge from a curbside parking space and pull a slow U-turn across four lanes of rushing traffic. She had a phone to her ear and seemed truly peeved that the resultant chorus of honking interrupted her conversation.

--Several times lately, I've had to alter my shopping pattern at the supermarket to avoid people carrying on long cell-phone conversations. The callers probably saw this doubling-up as an efficient use of their time, but the rest of us didn't care to hear about Aunt Agatha's goiter while trying to decide between Frosted Flakes and Cocoa Puffs. We're trying to read labels and compare prices, and this chatter doesn't help our concentration. Isn't the Muzak annoying enough?

--As a plane taxied to the gate, a passenger turned on his phone, and we were serenaded by his "ring tone," a 200-decibel rendition of "The Devil Went Down to Georgia." My ears are still ringing.

--A woman in a doctor's waiting room entertained the rest of us patients with a lengthy, emotional conversation, complete with tears and ululating. I believe she was talking to an estranged lover, but I'm not certain because the whole conversation was in an unfamiliar language, possibly Urdu.

Where will it end? Will all privacy be surrendered to the forces of technology? Will we all be forced to hear everyone else's conversations all the time? Can't we even hide from it in the BATHROOM?

Tell you what: Next guy I see talking on a cell phone in a men's room is in for a big surprise. I plan to snatch the phone right out of his hand, and toss it into the nearest porcelain receptable.
Will the person on the other end hear the flush?

Group grope

Greetings, class. Today's lesson is on group dynamics.

No matter what your field, you'll sometimes find yourself in a group of people trying to accomplish something. Even those of us who work alone at home eventually must go reeling into the world to meet with employers or colleagues or creditors.

At those times, you need a working knowledge of group dynamics. Without it, you can make blunders and upset your fellow humans and risk embarrassment, financial ruin or, in extreme cases, a swift and painful death.

Group dynamics arise in all arenas, from the traditional business meeting to charity board proceedings to team sports to five guys leaning on shovels, staring at a pothole.

Group dynamics lie at the core of decision-making. Someone must lead and someone must follow. Agreements must be reached. Ideas must be hashed out, thrown out and resurrected. The wheel must be reinvented.

To understand group dynamics, let's first look at the roots. "Dynamics" comes from the Latin -- dynamo for "power" and ics for "in the hands of idiots." The larger term, group dynamics, was coined by psychobabblists as a way to address the behavior of the human herd.

As with herds in the animal kingdom, human behavior follows a pattern of dominance and submission. Most people, placed in a group, are submissive. They're called "listeners" or "followers" or "sheep." Others are assertive and demand to be heard. Depending upon the setting, these types are known as "leaders" or "alpha males" or "jerks."

No matter where you fall in that spectrum, it's vital that you remember some basic tenets of group dynamics, such as:

Density is Variable
Some people have quick minds. Others must mull and mumble to reach a decision. In dealing with groups, you must allow for variations in brain power and reaction speed and skull thickness. The same goes for driving in traffic.

Feelings, Nothing More than Feelings
Whether we like it or not, humans have emotions. They get their feelings hurt. They're quick to anger or slow to forgive. They let these emotions seep into the decision-making process, resulting in misunderstandings and grudges and wars. Parliamentary procedure was designed to remove emotion from decision-making, and that really steams some people.

Please Do Not Leave Baggage Unattended
Humans are not blank slates when they arrive in a group setting. They bring along their own histories and hang-ups and biases. You must allow for this baggage and work around it, or be prepared to shoot the person hauling it.

Everyone Wants to Sing Before the Fat Lady
It's a democratic ideal that everyone has a voice and everyone should have a say in decisions. Meetings often involve going around the table, giving everyone an opportunity to address each issue. Unfortunately, some people are in love with the sound of their own voices. These divas want to sing an aria when a few notes (or silent assent) would do. A strong leader knows when to cut off debate, even if it requires stuffing a sock in the diva's mouth.

Everybody Wants to Go to Heaven, But Nobody Wants to Die
People in groups tend to address the "big picture." They want to describe a "vision" for the future. But when it comes time to pass out the hands-on labor, they sit quietly, hoping that others will do the dirty work. "Vision" is great, but it won't fill that pothole.

Keep these rules of human interaction in mind the next time you enter a group setting. Allow for the feelings and egos of others. Work toward that common goal.

If all else fails, keep your shovel handy.

Bonkers over honkers

When I was growing up in the South, we were taught that the lowest depth of rudeness was to pull up outside a date's home and honk the horn to summon her.

A gentleman went to the door, rang the bell and waited. Someone would invite him inside so the parents could give him a thorough inspection before handing over their daughter for the evening.

(Sometimes, it didn't get that far. My great-grandfather, who lived with his three granddaughters, was famous for looking each suitor up and down, then slamming the door in his face.)

The young lady's role in this little drama was to never, ever be ready on time. This allowed her parents a few minutes to chew over the poor, sweating boy, to determine whether he had a job or a future, what kind of family his "people" were, whether he'd washed behind his ears, etc…

Once, I showed up to take out a young lady for the first time, and was ushered into her father's study. What followed was a scene out of Tennessee Williams.

The father sat behind his desk with a fat cigar and a tumbler of bourbon. He wore a silk brocade robe (and apparently little else). He intoned, in his finest Southern manner, "Boy, what are your intentions with my daughter?"

I gulped and stuttered and mumbled something about dinner and a movie. He looked me up and down, and summed up his disappointment in a single grunt. Fortunately, my date rescued me about then, but dad's work had been done. I was jumpy and distant all evening, wondering whether my intentions were showing.

The "no honking" rule applied to friends as well. If a friend of mine rolled up in the driveway and honked, the next person he'd see would be my mother, out on the porch, crooking a finger to order him into the house. My folks always wanted to check out my pals. I think they were sniffing for booze, a reasonable precaution.

I share these fond reminiscences not out of nostalgia, but to talk about today's youth. When friends arrive to spirit away our teen-age son, they don't honk (we have rules, too) or knock or ring the bell.

They phone.

Our son, having already secured permission for the outing, will say, in passing, as he heads for the door, "OK, they’re here. See you later."

My first reaction always is: How does he know? I didn't hear a car. I peer out the window and, sure enough, a carload of rowdy teens waits at the curb. All of them brandishing cell phones.

Are they so lazy, I wonder, that they can't take the fifteen steps from the curb to the front door? Are they so intimidated by us parents? (Fat chance.) Is it really easier to dial up our son?

Then I remind myself that no dialing was required because he and his friends are already on the phone. All the time. Sixteen-way calling and voicemail and call-waiting and text messaging. They're in constant contact. They know each other's movements at all times. Air-traffic controllers pay less attention than these kids.

I'm left peeking out the window and wondering. But I've figured a way around the problem. If his friends avoid inspection by phoning ahead, I'll give them a dose of their own medicine. Imagine their surprise when their cell phones ring and it's me on the line, asking about their "intentions."

Browbeating the blabbermouths

In everyday conversation, it's remarkable how many people can't tell the difference between "rapt" and "trapped."

They'll yammer on and on, believing they have our undivided attention, when in fact we are secretly practicing the skill known as "yawning with our mouths closed."

It's not just that these people are boring. They're so self-absorbed that they think they're fascinating, or their topic so enraptures them that they assume it must be equally interesting to the world at large. They feel justified in "sharing" with the rest of us, so we won't be deprived of this information/opinion/enlightenment.

We've all been trapped in such conversations. In the workplace, a co-worker (or, worse, a boss) corners you in a corridor and forces you to listen to gory descriptions of his recent surgery. Or, a client spends an entire business lunch reliving the detailed itinerary of an exotic vacation you yourself could never afford. Or, you're seated at a dinner party next to a blowhard so breathtakingly boring that you want to spit in his plate.

Fortunately, you needn't suffer in silence any longer. You can use special communication techniques to derail runaway yakkers. Try the following:

Direct confrontation. If a co-worker insists on telling you the plot of last night's TV sitcom, say, "I thought only idiots watched that show."

Distraction. Sometimes, all you need is to divert the person's attention. For example, if a colleague won't shut up, try interrupting with, "You've got a smudge on your face." When he wipes his cheek and keeps talking, say, "No, on the other side." When he wipes his hand on that side, say, "Oh, no, you made it worse." Soon, he'll stop chattering and go find a mirror.

Appeal to the senses. You can create a diversion by saying, "Is it cold in here?" Or, "What's that smell?" Or, "Look! A bear!"

Physical cues. Roll your eyes. Clear your throat repeatedly. Look at your wristwatch. If none of those cues work, then get physical with the talker. Give him a little "goose" in the ribs with your finger. Seven or eight times. Or, a friendly slap on the shoulder. Harder each time, until he goes away. Actual strangling is considered bad manners.

Disagree endlessly. When a colleague wants to complain about working conditions, say, "I like it that way." Every time.

Agree endlessly. Some people just love to argue. If you agree with everything they say, you take the legs right out from under them. If your agreement causes problems later, you can always deny it.

Verbal judo. Use the yakker's own momentum to throw them off-balance. Some examples:
If a colleague insists on telling you about last night's dream, pretend to listen, then, no matter how outlandish the description, say, "I had a dream just like that."

If the person keeps talking about illness/poor health/surgery, take it farther by "topping" them. Tell them their malady is "nothing compared to dengue fever." Offer to compare scars. Try, "Want to see my boil?" Soon, even the sickest gabber will find the strength to scurry away.

If a genealogy nut tries to tell you about past generations in her family, pretend to consider the names, then say, "I thought my ancestors killed all your ancestors. Guess we missed some."

If a co-worker complains about his ex-wife, say, "I know just what you mean. She's been the same way, ever since we started dating."

Using these techniques can rescue you from many excruciating conversations, and in most cases can actually lengthen your life.

Remember, though: If you find people using such techniques on you, then it's time to shut up. Before they start goosing you.

Can your inner child come out to play?

Researchers who study children say it's imperative that parents tear their offspring away from the TV and make them go interact with other kids.

Play time, they tell us, is when children learn many of the social skills they'll one day need to become functioning adults.

For instance, kids of my generation learned the rules of social debate from the standard shooting games -- cops-and-robbers or cowboys-and-Indians or (after steady doses of the TV show "Combat!") heroic G.I. vs. evil Nazi. These games went like this:

"Bang, you're dead."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you ARE."

"You missed me."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Liar."

"Cheater."

"I'm telling."

At this point, the offended child would run to a weary Mom to complain. Game over.

Nowadays, of course, kids aren't allowed to shoot toy guns. Even whispering "bang" can get a kid expelled from school for life. Instead, children learn social skills by debating which Pokemon is most powerful, the argument escalating until one child runs to Mom, crying and complaining.

The playground is where kids learn to make friends and gossip about enemies. Where they learn to evade bullies. Where they learn to shrug off slights with dignity.

As we grow older, we forget many of those lessons. Or, we water them down. We want to be taken seriously as adults, so we disdain the social tricks that have proven valuable to generations of kids.

For example, we learn to gloat in smug silence when we outdo our competitors or when that jerk in the next cubicle makes a costly mistake. What we'd like to do, of course, is to call out: "Hahahahaha. I win, I win. Neener, neener, neener." But that's not how serious adults act.

We might be better off if we let that inner child go out to play more often. Maybe we're missing something by keeping those playground taunts and tactics bottled up inside. Some examples:

--Are any two words more chilling than "I'm telling?" Try it the next time you catch co-workers filching office supplies or competitors violating federal regulations. See if they don't shape up immediately.

--Remember picking teams on the playground? Was anything more humiliating than being the uncoordinated geek who was chosen last? You can turn that around in your career life. Pick the geek first. He'll be your salvation when the computers go down.

--When your boss is handing out assignments, be the quickest to say, "Not it."

--Turn aside insults by using those old favorites, "Sticks and stones . . . " or "I'm rubber and you're glue . . . " They might not defuse an angry confrontation, but they're better than gunfire.

--Hum background music as you go through your workday, the way boys provide action soundtracks to their playground heroism. When you finish a task, go for the crescendo: "Da-dum-da-dum-ta-DAAAH!" Your coworkers will love it. Really.

--If an irate colleague tries to corner you, sprint away while yelling over your shoulder, "You ca-a-an't catch me."

--Also effective: "You can't make me." (You should have another job lined up before trying that one on your boss, however.)

Maybe you're saying to yourself about now: "Hey, there's a reason I put aside all this kid stuff. My job is important, and it requires me to act like a grown-up. I want to be taken seriously."

To which I reply: "Haha, you're an adult. You don't get to play. Neener, neener, neener."

Meeting expectations

It's a common notion in the business world that "nothing gets accomplished in meetings," but that couldn't be further from the truth.

Plenty occurs in your typical business meeting. In particular, careers are ruined because participants don't know how to play the game.

No matter what your field, you eventually will be expected to "take a meeting" with your superiors or co-workers or clients. Somewhere, I'm sure, lumberjacks are forced to sit around a long table and analyze performance and profit ratios.

(Even we lowly workers who toil in home offices occasionally are summoned to headquarters or forced to pitch our ideas to customers. We tend to be ineffective in meetings because we're accustomed to working alone, muttering and cursing and wearing coffee-stained sweatpants.)

The key to a successful business meeting is to be prepared. You must know your material and how best to project it. You must know the participants and what they expect. You must make sure you don't have spinach stuck in your front teeth.

All the etiquette lessons your mother tried to teach you apply to business meetings. Since you didn't listen to your mother any more than you currently heed your boss, let's review:

--Mind your manners. Common courtesy is expected at business meetings. Don't talk over other people, no matter how slow and befuddled they seem. Don't shoot rubber bands at co-workers. Don't chew gum while meeting with a client, and never, ever stick the chewed gum to the underside of his desk.

--Know your audience and what connections lie behind the scenes. Do some research, so you know which client is a slack-jawed idiot and which ones simply look like slack-jawed idiots. Dogpile-on-the-boss'-nephew almost never works. And, how many salesmen have been ruined by referring to competitors as "Satan's spawn," only to learn the customer is married to one of those competitors?

--Avoid sweeping generalizations. For instance, don't say "golf is for morons" until you find out your client's handicap.

--Don't hog the conversation. Nobody likes a know-it-all. Give others a chance to dig their own holes of ignominy. (Note: When you witness a colleague sink his career in a meeting, it's considered impolite to snort-laugh.)

--Pay attention. No matter how long-winded your boss or how unproductive a meeting seems, it's always bad form to start leafing through magazines. Just like in school, the teacher always calls on the student who's staring out the window.

--Know the terminology. You won't make a good impression using terms like "gizmo" and "widget" unless you work for Universal Gizmos and Widgets, Inc.

--Dress appropriately. At one time, the traditional business suit was the correct uniform for all meetings. No more. Part of knowing your audience is knowing how they dress. Hollywood types, for instance, tend to dress like carpenters. Computer engineers go for the "surfer/nerd" look. If you wear a business suit to a meeting with software geeks, they will sneer and flick pizza on you.

--Be careful with jokes. "Two drunks walk into a bar…" may not seem funny to a client who's active in Alcoholics Anonymous.

--Make suggestions. If you sit silent as a stump through every meeting, co-workers will start treating you like a stump. Or, worse, the way dogs treat a stump.

--Be prepared to back down. Don't insist that your idea is the only workable one or that the boss is stupid to ignore you. Wait until you're out of the meeting, then say those things in the "safety zone" behind your manager's back.

--Stay awake. No matter what.

If you follow these simple rules, you, too, can be effective in business meetings and go on to have a successful career. Particularly if you're the boss' nephew.

Well, I'll be bleeped

Government censorship poses a dangerous "slippery slope," but a little self-censorship might be just the ticket for our society.

I'm thinking here of what's quaintly called "cussing" or "rough language." This form of speech consists of "bad" words that in ancient times, such as the 1950s, were considered inappropriate in mixed company.

I'm certainly guilty of such language. I practically grew up in newsrooms and, back then, rough language was a tool of the trade. Your typical gang of drunken sailors, exposed to everyday newsroom conversation, would clap their hands over their ears and flee weeping into traffic.

(These days, newspaper offices tend to be as sedate and politically correct as dental labs, but that's another column.)

Reaching maturity -- more or less -- in such a social climate, I learned to resort to "bad" words, particularly when elbow-deep in stressful situations. My sons insist they heard every cussword in the English language "the day Dad tried to fix the toilet."

Yet it's my children (and their generation) that I think of now when I hear such words, and I hear them everywhere. People bray them into their cell phones in public places. They refer to each other affectionately in terms that would've generated a fistfight a generation or two ago.
Popular music is chock-full of very bad words, not to mention racial epithets, misogynistic lyrics and poor singing. Television blares so many bad words these days, they might as well use them in place of "laugh tracks."

All this ear pollution fills our children's heads. And the bad words then spill out the little ones' mouths at the worst possible times, such as at Thanksgiving dinner.

Common usage devalues "bad" words, making it ever more difficult to be a parent. When I was a boy and my dad let a bad word slip out, I knew he was very, very upset, and I should go hide in the treehouse. I blurt the same word to my kids, and they think it's "funny." If I want their attention, I must invent new, more complicated cusswords, which isn't as easy as it sounds.

A little self-censorship would go a long way toward solving this societal ill, but we Americans aren't big on self-restraint. And, even if we could get human beings to stop talking this way, we couldn't put the quietus on subhuman species such as "shock jocks" and Eminem.

The answer lies in technology. What we need are personal "bleep" boxes, like those censoring devices still used on TV for very bad words. The "bleep" covers up the word, forcing viewers to keep their eyes on the screen to read the actors' lips.

Using computer-chip technology, scientists could develop a tiny bleep box, which could be worn around the neck like a tasteful amulet. When the wearer spouted a cussword, the box would emit a "bleep" to protect young listeners.

Such devices could even be modified to protect against other social gaffes. For example, you might say, "Martha, that's the bleepiest hairdo I've ever seen." Martha might still know you meant something unkind (particularly if she's a lip-reader), but the bleep would give you a moment to reconsider your words and perhaps find a path of "deniability."

Would such gizmos keep our children from cussing? Probably not. But they might preserve the impact of bad words for times when it's really needed.

I can already hear my kids: "Dad said 'bleep.' He's so funny!"

An etiquette quiz, dude

Doesn't it seem that rudeness is rampant these days? Wherever you go, someone is there to interrupt you, cut you off, ruin your meal, laugh in your face, or sneeze on your shirt.

Social pundits complain that parents don't teach their children good manners anymore. The sad fact is that many parents don't know the fine points of proper etiquette. They either weren't taught appropriate behavior when they were younger, or they've forgotten it in their rush to "get ahead" in a fast-paced, ever-ruder world.

"Etiquette" (from the French for "do not spit in the salad") is the body of prescribed social behavior. It helps society run smoothly and sets standards for everyday actions. Most importantly, it keeps us all from killing each other.

To see whether you know all you should about etiquette (and, therefore, can give proper lessons to your children), take the following quiz:

1: The correct response to "Thank you" is:

A. "You're welcome."
B. "No problem."
C. "Huh?"
D. "Whatever, dude."

2: When passing through a door with other people, you should:

A. Hold the door open for others and come through last.
B. Step through the door, then reach as far as you can to more or less hold it open for those who follow.
C. Slip past the slow-moving people, saying, "C'mon, c'mon. I haven't got all day."
D. Slam the door on someone's fingers.

3: When you're driving and you see a pedestrian at a crosswalk, you should:

A. Stop and gesture for the pedestrian to go ahead and cross the street.
B. Stop, gesture for the pedestrian to go ahead, then "rev" your engine to hurry him along.
C. Speed up.
D. "Brush him back" up onto the curb.

4. The appropriate response when someone sneezes is:

A. "Bless you!"
B. "Wow!"
C. "Yuck!"
D. "Good one!"

5. If, during a conversation, someone unleashes a "bodily noise," you should:

A. Ignore it and keep talking.
B. Roll your eyes.
C. Snicker.
D. Say, "Good one!"

6. When dining, which of the following are appropriate to put on the table:

A. Forearms.
B. Elbows.
C. Feet.
D. A copy of "Penthouse" magazine.

7. If you're standing in line and spot a friend near the front, you should:

A. Wave to your friend and wait your turn.
B. Go to your friend and strike up a conversation so you can get "cuts."
C. Join your friend while "mad-dogging" anyone who might object.
D. Shove aside anyone between you and your friend.

8. When you receive a gift that is ugly or stupid or otherwise inappropriate, you should:

A. Thank the gift-giver and lie about the gift's beauty and intrinsic value.
B. Thank the gift-giver and wait until s/he leaves before laughing so hard that noodles squirt out your nose.
C. Say, "Well, I've certainly never had one of these before."
D. Mutter, "Time for another garage sale."

9. In a restaurant, the proper way to summon a waiter is:

A. Raise your hand until you catch the waiter's eye.
B. Raise your hand and shout, "Garcon! Hey!"
C. Whistle loudly.
D. Slam the tabletop repeatedly with your shoe.

(Warning: Inappropriate summoning of the waiter can result in the waiter's failure to follow proper "etiquette." If this occurs, skip the salad.)

10. If someone is droning on about a topic that doesn't interest you, you should:

A. Politely change the subject.
B. Look pointedly at your watch.
C. Clear your throat repeatedly.
D. Punch him.

To score your quiz: Give yourself 10 points for each "A" answer, then subtract 5 points for each "B," "C" or "D" answer. If you score less than 50, it may be time to take an etiquette course.

Remember: Manners are important. Etiquette is the oil that lubricates social intercourse.

(If you snickered at the term "social intercourse," subtract another 10 points.)

Let's do lunch

For those of us who work at home, the occasional business lunch can be an opportunity to network with new contacts and develop strong, long-term business relationships. It's also an opportunity to fall flat on our faces into our oyster bisque.

At-home workers get out of practice when it comes to dining with others. We often spend the day in our pajamas, noshing on whatever's handy, washing it down with copious amounts of coffee. When you work all by yourself, no one's there to disapprove as you graze all day. If you want to eat Ding-Dongs for breakfast, so be it. Olives out of the jar make a dandy lunch you can eat right at the computer. And who needs a napkin when you're wearing absorbent flannel pajamas?

But when a boss or business contact summons us to a lunch out, we must mind our manners. Remember, a business lunch isn't about food. It's about making an impression. No matter how light and lively the conversation, it can be ruined if you have spinach wedged between your teeth and ketchup on your shirtfront.

Here, then, are some rules to follow when attending a business lunch:

--A bathrobe is not proper business attire. Dining out means you're required to wear actual clothes. This can be a problem for the at-home worker, especially if a steady diet of Ding-Dongs means none of your pants fit anymore.

--Dark, solid colors work best because they don't show spills or sweat. Beyond that, you want spills and drips to blend in with whatever you're wearing. For instance, if you're wearing a white shirt, it's better to order a white pasta sauce than a red one. If you're a real pig at the table, you might want to stick with wild patterns, such as Hawaiian shirts. These aren't particularly business-like, but they'll hide a multitude of sins. And remember: Neckties are for dipping.

--Bibs are out, unless you're eating lobster. Keep your napkin spread across your lap and trust gravity to take care of the rest.

--Avoid messy foods such as soup, spaghetti, sloppy joes, tacos, chili dogs, spare ribs, buffalo wings, cheeseburgers, mashed potatoes with gravy, eggs benedict. A good rule of thumb: If it looks good, you can't have it, it's too messy. Try ordering plain lettuce. Careful not to get it wedged between your teeth.

--Follow your host's lead when it comes to ordering. If your host orders something light and inexpensive, better not to order the rack of lamb yourself. When you're paying, order something in the right price range so your guest can follow your example. Again, plain lettuce works.

--Order the same number of courses as your host. That way, you won't still be scarfing dessert while he's looking at his watch.

--Skip the booze, even if your host consumes the traditional three martinis. Somebody's got to drive him back to his office.

--Don't flirt with the waitress. It's unseemly, even if she started it.

--Don’t ask a lot of questions of the waiter. This makes you appear picky and weird. If you don't recognize a particular sauce or entrée listed on the menu, then order something else. There's always lettuce.

--Don't ridicule the waiter when he offers "fresh ground pepper with that." Sure, there's pepper right there on the table, but the waiter has to ask. It's his job.

--Don't talk with your mouth full. Yes, you're excited about your ideas and you want to squeeze every topic you can into this business lunch. But clients are turned off by the sight of chewed food. Trust us.

--Toothpicks are to be used in private places, such as in your car. Ditto for dental floss.

--When the meal is over, stand up from the table and brush the crumbs from your lap. Confidently shake hands and give your lunch partner a big smile. That way, he can see for himself that you have gravy on your sleeve and lettuce between your teeth.

--Don't loiter. Drive straight home, picking your teeth along the way. Change into your pajamas, all the while congratulating yourself on another successful business lunch.

To celebrate, break out the Ding-Dongs.

Eating meeting

Child-rearing experts tell us it's important that families share meals.

Dinnertime should be a ritual, they say, a time for gathering together, sharing school news, discussing current events. A time of glowing cheeks and hot food and table settings worthy of a Norman Rockwell painting.

In households where both parents work outside the home, such dinners are difficult to schedule. But because I work at home, we frequently manage to get the entire family around the table at the same time. Here's what the rest of you are missing:

Dad: "Dang, I got all sweaty cooking this. What's the temperature in this kitchen? Eighty? Ninety?"

Mom: "Put your napkins in your laps."

No. 1 Son: "Broccoli? I hate broccoli."

No. 2 Son: "I'm going to miss my favorite TV show."

Mom: "Eat it. It's good for you."

No. 2 Son: "If I eat real fast, can I go watch my show?"

Dad: "Eat the broccoli. You want to get colon cancer?"

Mom: "Let's not discuss colons at the table. Put your napkins in your laps."

Dad: "I'm sweating onto my plate."

No. 1 Son: "If he eats my broccoli for me, can we both go watch TV?"

Dad and Mom: "NO!"

No. 2 Son: Whimpering noises.

Dad: "Enough. How was everyone's day?"

Mom: "Is that your napkin? Why is it on the floor?"

No. 1 Son: "The dog LIKES broccoli."

Dad: "I had a good day. How about the rest of you?"

No. 2 Son: Gargling noises.

Mom: "Don't gargle your juice."

No. 1 Son: "My day sucked."

Dad: "Don't say 'sucked.' It's rude."

No. 2 Son: Choking noises.

No. 1 Son (under his breath): "Sucked, sucked, sucked."

No. 2 Son: "Does anybody care that I'm choking to death?"

Mom and Dad: "No!"

Mom: "Mine went okay. But I was in meetings all day. I'm exhausted."

Dad: "You look tired."

No. 2 Son: "Pikachu! Pikachu!"

Mom: "What do you mean, I look tired?"

No. 1 Son: "A girl tried to kiss me today."

Dad: "Nothing. I mean, you said you're exhausted. Your eyes are droopy."

Mom: "Don't put your face down to the plate. Lift the food on your fork."

Dad: "Kiss you? What did you do?"

Mom: "What do you mean, droopy?"

No. 2 Son: "Do you like seafood?"

Mom and Dad: "No!"

No. 2 Son opens mouth so we can all "see" the "food" inside.

No. 1 Son: "Gross! You're disgusting!"

Mom: "Don't call your brother disgusting."

No. 2 Son: "Droopy eyes! Droopy eyes!"

Mom: "Don't be disgusting."

No. 1 Son: "I kicked her."

Dad: "Who?"

Mom: "What did you do all day?"

No. 1 Son: "The girl. Miss Kissy-face."

Mom: "Don't kick people. It's not nice."

No. 1 Son: "At least it's not disgusting. What is this meat?"

Dad: "The usual. Wrote a column. Laundry. Vacuumed the floors."

No. 1 Son: "I'm not eating this. Here, boy. Here, boy."

Dad: "Don't drop that on my clean floor."

No. 2 Son: "May I be excused?"

Mom: "Get that dog away from the table."

Dad: "Here, boy. Here, boy."

Dog (confused): "Arf! Arf!"

Mom: "You don't want seconds?"

No. 1 Son: "I didn't want firsts. Did Dad cook this?"

Dad (bristling): "Yeah, what about it?"

Mom: "It's very good. Eat it."

No. 1 Son: "Sucks."

Dad: "Where did the other one go?"

Mom: "He excused himself to go watch TV."

Dad: "You think he tastes anything when he eats that fast?"

No. 1 Son: "I hope not, for his sake."

Mom: "You're excused, too."

No. 1 Son departs, grumbling.

Mom: "Alone at last. That seemed to go well."

Dad: "Another successful family dinner. Is it hot in here?"