T GAMBLE: We need a new Emily Post book on modern-day etiquette

I am having a hard time these days deciding how I should act in public. Of course, some would say “What’s new with that? You haven’t known how to act in public since you were born.” But, there was a time that I at least knew how I should act. Maybe I didn’t do it, but I knew it.

Growing up, Emily Post was the official expert on all social behavior. I’m not sure how one becomes such an expert but she gained the moniker, and her rules were the gospel. She said things like “Etiquette is the science of living. It embraces everything. It is the code of sportsmanship and of honor. It is ethics.” She laid down rules like to be a good guest you must: tell the host whether or not you will attend, be on time, be a willing participant, offer to help when you can, don’t overindulge, and thank the host twice. I’m not sure why twice was the golden number, but by God if Emily Post said it, then it must be.

But in today’s world, I am lost. I know when I shake a man’s hand I should stand. But I’m not sure I should shake at all. More importantly, do I need to stand if offered a fist bump? A handshake should be firm and confident. Is the same true for the fist bump? Should I really unload a swinging bump in return so the receiving fist bumpee will know I am strong and confident? I also know that I should not extend my hand to shake a ladies hand unless she extends hers first. What about a fist bump with her? Can I offer a fist bump first to a lady?

And what about all these non-binary folks and transgenders? If a biological male, who identifies as a female, enters the dining room where I am seated at the table, am I supposed to stand? I’m pretty sure Emily didn’t cover that one. Am I even allowed to hold the door open for a female without being considered a sexist pig, which, by the way, I fully acknowledge that I am. I embrace all the label purports to saddle me with.

When walking on the sidewalk, am I still to be nearest the roadway to safeguard the female companion with me? Or should I advance equality by exclaiming women have as much right to be killed by a stray car as a man and let the woman take the danger position?

Am I allowed to dress nicely for a fancy ball or does this now exhibit some type of privileged snobbery, requiring me to forever dress in tennis shoes, a T-shirt, and shorts that haven’t been washed in two decades? Suits me fine, I just need to know. On an airplane, am I allowed to pour my drink on the head of the blabbermouth in the next seat who will not stop talking about his kid winning the perfect attendance award for third grade? Am I allowed under any circumstance to express I find someone’s hair style offensive without being pistol whipped and declared a racist, Cro-magnon man?

Somebody needs to put out a new etiquette book for all of this. After all Emily was born in 1872. Things have changed a wee bit since then. I mean Emily had two sexes to deal with. Who knew the number of sexes would grow so quickly? I’ve got 67 to deal with and counting, according to the state of New York.

Folks rarely got divorced back then, now they divorce more often than I broke up with girlfriends in high school. You’ve got stepbrothers and stepdad’s and ex-stepdads and ex-stepbrothers and on and on it goes.

Whenever the new rules come out, please send me a copy as fast as can be. The number of sexes is increasing at lightning speed now, and I’m afraid before long it may be more than I can add.