Show appreciation for book club friend with a luncheon

I belong to a long-established book club with many members belonging for 20 or 25 years. We have a sort of rotating moderator who sends out reminders and lists of books, and keeps discussions on topic when they veer off too far into grandchildren and health issues.

The present moderator is especially good and skillful at communicating and gracefully keeping everyone on task. One member wants to reward her, and is collecting for a substantial monetary gift. I am offended and appalled that we would offer money to a friend for doing a good job. I think a modest gift card from a bookstore, or better, a beautiful bouquet, would be much more appropriate. How could this awful, well-meaning gesture have been sidetracked?

Gentle reader: In these crass times, Miss Manners is grateful to hear of someone who considers it insulting to pay social acquaintances for helping out. It downgrades acts of generosity to being paid services. Yet gratitude should be shown. It is unfortunately common for such generosity to be taken for granted or dismissed as something the volunteer just likes to do.

So you are right to think of whitewashing the situation and laundering the money. A book or flowers, sure, but what about throwing a luncheon in her honor, with the members expressing their admiration? One of the most lasting presents possible is explicit appreciation.

Dear Miss Manners: I am an older gentleman who has repeatedly been described as “a natty dresser.” (I just think that I dress neatly and appropriately.) And yet there are three women I encounter occasionally who compulsively correct something: They smooth an already flat lapel or adjust a carefully knotted tie.

If the genders were reversed, I would be allowed to say, with some heat, “Take your hands off me!” The best I have come up with is, “You know, it’s a shame that someone in his 60s can’t be trusted to get dressed before he leaves the house.” What advice has Miss Manners to offer?

Gentle reader: Is this an assault on your aesthetic or on your personal space? Either complaint is legitimate, but Miss Manners wants to be clear on the intention before she offers her advice. She supposes that it will sound outdated if she recalls when it used to be a sign of affection for a partner or intimate to adjust a gentleman’s clothing. It was of no relevance if the tie or lapel actually needed improvement — it was merely a way to take pride in his appearance. Miss Manners readily concedes, however, that doing this without consent, or to someone to whom you are not intimately related, is a violation. And as you point out, it does not pass the gender-reverse test. Adjusting a lady’s bra strap or wayward button would not be taken kindly.

Assuming good intent, however, perhaps you could offer bewilderment instead of heat. Try a startled step back, followed by, “Oh dear, I tied that tie meticulously. I’ll have to retreat to the men’s room now to adjust it. Excuse me.” If you do this enough and it causes sufficient delay in dinner or other plans, perhaps your handsy friends will receive the message that their adjustments are not wanted.

Dear Miss Manners: I come from a family that I thought was very close. I have two brothers and three sisters, and my parents had a lot of land. When my parents were living, it was understood that when they passed, each child would inherit a parcel of land. My father died first, and then my mother changed her will. She left all the property to one sister; none of the others got land. My heart was shattered. It’s been six years already. I don’t dwell on the situation, but I felt totally betrayed. I live out of the country, so it would have been nice to have a summer home where I grew up. Now my siblings are questioning why I’m not as close to them as I was before. It’s a matter of fact — I don’t even miss them. Am I being a child by not wanting to be close again?

Gentle reader: It seems to Miss Manners that your quarrel is with your deceased mother, not your living siblings. Yet you are taking it out on them, most of whom are enduring the exact same misfortune as you. How close you want to be to your relatives is clearly up to you. But as to whether or not you are being a child? Six years later, an empathetic child probably would have gotten over it.