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August 2006
Dear
Madrone,
What can you
do when faced with a no class individual, who has no idea of what's
right and when this is pointed out, takes offense when he should
take a lesson?
Let me explain.
I was at dinner, a nice restaurant, cloth napkins and flowers so
perfect you could swear they were real, and this babbo starts
in on the cell phone. Now if it was an emergency, like his mother
was drawing her last, or he hit the lotto and someone was calling
to tell, now that I could understand. But no, it was an old girlfriend
calling up to find out the high school reunion time. When I pointed
out that the call could wait, it was our tenth anniversary, he,
shall we say, reacted poorly. Now we have to pay for the glassware
that was shattered in the ensuing discussion and most likely will
not be welcome back at the eatery, whose veal scaloppini is to die
for. I ask you. Aggrieved,
Half Moon Bay
Dear
Aggrieved, There are so many things wrong
here I am not sure where to begin, but that hasn't stopped me yet.
I'm not sure whether to congratulate you on holding on to such a
prize for ten years, or to send my condolences for same. Off hand
the cell phone stuff sounds like the least of your problems.
But this you
did not ask. What do you do when a person doesn't take kindly to
your suggestions for improvement? Forget nagging, waste of time.
Resign yourself, or make it cost. Good luck on making it to your
twentieth. God bless, Donna
Dear
Readers, the above letter brings up an important
topic: The high school reunion.
This event
is filled with dangers on every side, not the least of which is
some aging Romeo running off with the Juliet he left behind. No
matter that he's bald and she's put on more than a few. It happens
all the time. I recommend my pamphlet:
SURVIVING
THE HIGH SCHOOL REUNION: How to knock them
dead without knocking them out. This is available as always, under
the table and off the books. Just contact my cousin Augie, he'll
make sure you're taken care of.
Dear Madrone:
What do you suggest I do when my mother in law comes over and weeps
in her beer about her second husband who, to put it mildly, has
the self restraint of an alley cat on Viagra. Which he may be. He
is not the father of my husband, so no blood ties anywhere. My husband
washes his hands of it, he says, it's her bed. But he's a man, she
doesn't speak of things like this to him. I get the earful every
morning over coffee. Which I wish she would be drinking. Drowning
in Tears and Bear, Santa Ana
Dear
Drowning, You
are under no obligation to listen to her complaints. So the short
answer is don't. How? Stop listening that's how. Now you already
knew that, it's not what you're asking. You're asking if you can
get out of this without causing hard feelings, which is not possible.
So, answering the question you asked, I say, tell her to stuff a
sock in it. Period. God bless, Donna
Dear
Readers, nine times out of ten, the question
you are asking already has an answer you don't like, and you think
that by asking me you are going to hear something different than
what you already know, but don't like. I'm not complaining, this
pays for my rent and the occasional trip to Aruba. Your thin skin
is my 401K. Grazie.
"I'm
working on the world, revised improved edition,
featuring
fun for fools
blues for
brooders
tricks for
old dogs,
combs for
bald pates." Wislawa Szymborska

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Pamela Bongiorno Monk is a full time faculty member of Penn State University, where she teaches creative writing, both fiction and non fiction. She pursues freelance writing, authoring plays and feature articles. She has broken nearly as many rules of family as she has enforced.
Rules of Family Archive
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