When Harry Apologized to Sally.

Dear Philip:

I recently had a falling out with a close friend of almost a decade. While our relationship has been amazing in many ways, like other men I have been friends with he is challenged when it comes to talking out problems. Whenever he has let me down or hurt my feelings, I have found it easier to just suck it up and move on rather than confront. However, this last incident was so egregious and our fight was so public that I can’t do that, and now we’re not speaking.

I know that if I just pretend nothing happened, our relationship will go back to the way it was in a few weeks. This time, though, I feel like I need him to make a gesture to work things out, or I can’t respect myself. Am I being a bad friend here? Have I set the dynamic of the relationship so that in order to make things work I have to do what I've always done? Or was this ever a friendship at all?

Feeling Let Down

Dear Feeling,

It’s amazing that When Harry Met Sally just celebrated it’s 25^th anniversary, and we’re still misunderstanding the movie’s real lesson: the reason men and women can’t be friends isn’t sex, it’s unrealistic expectation. You women unrealistically expect us fellas to a.) admit when we’re wrong, and b.) apologize.

I’m kidding. Sort of.

Though gender equality is a wonderful goal, it’s still something we’re working on. When it comes to emotional intelligence, my askpvm.com email inbox would suggest men in 21^st century America still have some catching up to do. I base that on two general strains in the relationship questions I receive: from women, I hear, “How do I get him to talk about it?” and from the (admittedly few) men I hear from, I get, “Why can’t she just let it go?”

Sorry, Feeling, for hijacking your question to make a mildly sexist point. (See? Men can apologize!) Now allow me to make another: You know what else I’ve noticed women tend to do more than men? Ask questions they already know the answers to. You pose three queries at the end of your letter, and I’d wager you already have a pretty good handle on two of them.

The first is whether you’re being a bad friend, and the answer is clearly no. Friendship allows moments where one person lets his or her silence say to another, “You know what? You crossed the line. I don’t deserve this, and when you figure that out, you can come make it right.” The way you cross the line into ‘bad friend’ is when you refuse to let the other person own up to a mistake. Friendship demands respect, but it also requires allowances. (If the allowances have to come too often, of course, you might think about redefining the relationship as ‘former friend.’)

Your second question is also a bit of a no-brainer: of course it’s possible to train a dynamic into a relationship. We do it every day with romantic partners, friends, family members and co-workers. Mostly, those dynamics are harmless and are based on the personality traits we bring to our relationships. I’d argue that many of our ‘expected behaviors’ with others serve to make us feel worthwhile and connected: my bride and I have based the parenting of our daughters on knowing when the other is more equipped to deal with a certain situation, and knowing when to step up and take charge. Are we equal? Not in all situations…but we’re complimentary, and closer for it.

Unfortunately, the dynamic you’ve set forces you to do all the heavy lifting in your relationship. Which suggests the answer to your third question, about whether or not what you have with this man is a friendship at all.

That answer is…maybe. Though you don’t want to make the first move, do it one last time. Explain that you expect to talk through arguments, not sweep them under the rug. His response will let you know whether or not he’s Billy Crystal.

Platonically yours,

Philip

Queen Bees and Wannabes: the Post-Grad Years.

Dear Philip,

I had a falling out with a woman I’ve known socially for years, and now she’s getting our mutual friends to put pressure on me to apologize and make up with her.  The problem is I don’t want to.  I’m relieved to have her out of my life.  She’s a bully and has always been one, and our fight arose when I finally had the nerve to disagree with her on something, and then didn’t back down when she told me she felt “attacked.”  In the past, I’ve always gone along with whatever she wanted, because it was easier than listening to her complain when she didn’t get her way.

It’s very upsetting that women I call friends, who I know think she’s a bully, are taking her side and treating me like I’ve done something wrong.  It’s like high school.  How can I make them either see my side or stay out of it?

Frozen Out

Dear Frozen,

It’s easy to feel like high school never ends.  Even as an adult, you find yourself sitting in the cafeteria, watching with dread as the mean girl rallies her troops.  Any minute now, you can expect nasty, anonymous notes to be pushed through the vent in your locker.  (Note to my younger readers: pre-internet, that’s how we rolled.  Nasty, anonymous locker notes are ‘old school’…literally.)   

I would humbly suggest, though, that this kind of situation predates even high school.

Quick story: when my daughter Anna was five, she used to play with two little girls, one of whom had a favorite game she called “The Princess and her Handmaidens.”  That girl, of course, was always the Princess…or else.  The other little girl, like Anna, went along to get along, at first.  When they finally got tired of their supporting roles as Handmaiden One and Handmaiden Two, they rebelled as five-year-olds will, with tears and calls for the moms to come intervene.  When the princess’s mom sussed out the source of the unhappiness, she explained a basic truth to her daughter: friends share, take turns and respect each other.  Then she added a rule: you’ll share, take turns and respect your friends, or you won’t be allowed to have any come over. 

Your bully could’ve used that mom, Frozen, and while I totally agree that you should continue to cut her out of your life as much as possible, make sure that among your feelings for her you find some sympathy.  As we all figure out in high school, bullies are bullies because they’re desperately insecure.  For someone like the woman you’ve been dealing with, even being disagreed with must be wounding: she isn’t kidding when she says she feels “attacked” by your unwillingness to let her have her way on everything.  It’s not your job to provide the lessons she clearly never learned on how friendship works, but having a little empathy for her obvious internal misery might make any incidental contact you have with her a little easier.

Don’t let your mutual friends off the hook, though.  What they’re doing is cowardly and selfish: they’re letting on that she’s bullying them even more than usual, now that you’ve abdicated your duties as a suck-up, and they’re looking to you for relief when they should be growing spines. 

You asked how you can make them see your side.  You don’t need to, because they already do.  Your side doesn’t matter to them in the least.  What matters is that the Queen Bee is abuzz, she’s making them miserable and – directly or indirectly – letting them know that they have to get you back in line, pronto. 

Friendship allows lapses: calmly tell any of the mutual friends who pressure you on behalf of the bully that it isn’t their business.  If they accept that, forgive them their momentary cowardice.  If they don’t, ask yourself if your friendship with them meet’s Anna’s playmate’s mom’s threshold…especially the ‘respect each other’ part.  If friendships remind you of the worst parts of high school, then maybe it’s time to graduate.

Yours in playing nice,

Philip

Parenting is Hands-On, But Punishment Shouldn't Be.

Dear Philip,

Is spanking a child okay? My father and I just had an argument about it when my son was behaving badly during my parents’ visit and I put him in a time-out. My father thinks I’m too politically correct and says that since the infrequent spankings I received as a child don’t seem to have “ruined” me, I should consider using corporal punishment with both my kids.

My wife disagrees, and thinks my father is awful for even suggesting it. Is she right?

Sparing the Rod

Dear Sparing,

Your dad certainly has an interesting way of measuring success: spanking didn’t ruin you, so you should ignore the reams of evidence that it’s a bad idea (and not particularly effective), and go ahead and strike your child.

I know, I know: I just used the word “strike,” and approximately half my readership rolled its collective eyes, certain that I’m being as politically correct as your father thinks you’re being. Actually, though, I’m just being precise in my language. Spanking is the use of a hand to strike a child in order to inflict pain, generally as a form of punishment for something that probably doesn’t rise to the level of felony. Spanking is a parent’s way of saying, “Step out of line, kid, and I will physically hurt you.”

Which is not something your father would likely be comfortable admitting, or even realizing. Let’s let him off the hook from this standpoint: your father spanked you, so it’s a safe bet that he was spanked, as were his folks. It’s what he knows, and it was something he learned from people who loved him. To see spanking as potentially harmful is to admit that his parents might have harmed him…and that he might have harmed you. He sees your rejection of spanking as an accusation.

If he lets on that he’s feeling accused, gently let him know that if he practiced spanking the way most parents have – rarely and not-very-firmly – it’s perfectly acceptable for him to plead ignorance. Until recently, we didn’t really know any better.

Now we do. Plenty of recent studies find a direct link between spanking and aggressive behavior in school (and later in life). That link makes a whole lot of sense when you consider that taking a hand to a child teaches nothing so much as the idea that getting physical is a perfectly acceptable way to solve problems.

The irony, of course, is that parents don’t really use spanking to solve problems. They use it because they’re angry. Maybe because they’ve been defied, or they’re scared. There’s an important distinction between consequence and punishment, and that’s passion: a parent who can calmly put a child in a time-out or take away a privilege stands a much better chance of teaching that child than a parent who loses it and starts swinging. And honestly, wouldn’t you rather your child fear a loss of privilege and not you?

Actual parenting – coming up with consequences that can be explained to your child before they need to be employed, and then employing them firmly – is hard. It takes thought and planning. Spanking is quick and easy, and can make the one doing the spanking feel better right away: My kid acted up, and I sure taught him a lesson!

But parenting is not about making the parent feel better, it’s about helping a child grow into a secure, healthy person with a set of values. It’s about being the adult in the relationship even when – maybe especially when – both sides could use a breather. The lack of passion that comes in a time-out, or the removal of a toy, gives a son or daughter the space to actually think about whatever rule it is that they’ve broken. Pain makes thinking a bit more difficult: it’s hard to be contrite when you’re too busy being afraid of the person that’s supposed to protect you.

 Your father taught you to spank, Sparing, but I’m guessing he also taught you to learn: now that you have access to information that he didn’t have, honor your dad by using that knowledge.

Yours in using our words,

Philip

Where There's a Will, There's a Dog.

Dear Philip,

My 84-year-old mother recently bought herself a dog, not long after my father passed away. I am concerned because dogs can live a very long time, and she will probably not outlive her new pet. She may not even be able to take care of him for very long. Her attitude is that someone will want him when she passes away, and she feels it is too morbid to discuss the subject now. I am afraid I will be expected to take the dog, as I am her only child. Any advice?

Pet Free by Choice

Dear Pet Free,

Reason number 3,475 that dogs are better than people: they don’t let their sensitivities get in the way of good decision making.

Your mother isn’t keen on talking about the fact that her new pooch will likely outlive her. That’s understandable; no one wants to think about their own mortality. Her avoidance of the discomfort involved in discussing reality, however, is pretty crummy news for the dog she’s just brought into her life. That’s because without a plan for his future care in place, Rover might follow her into the great beyond sooner than she probably would have wanted.

Forgive the bluntness, but that’s a very likely outcome if there isn’t a plan for the care of your mother’s dog in place before she passes away. Pets who are not taken in by family or friends go to public shelters; pets who are not adopted from public shelters within a set time usually face the needle.

So talk to your mom, Pet Free, and start the conversation with this pretty stark number from the Humane Society: as many as 500,000 pets end up in shelters each year as a result of owner death or incapacitation. Well over half those companion animals will be put down. With that in mind, maybe her sensitivities will seem a little less important to her. Tell your mom that – like all great things – pet ownership involves a little planning. Then help her make that plan.

Start with a list of folks who might be willing to take her dog if and when she can no longer take care of him. Make sure she comes up with several backups: some people might say no, and some who initially say yes might have their circumstances change, and might not be able (or allowed) to have a pet if the day comes that they’ll be called upon. Then have your mom talk to the people on her list.

One of the things that will help those people say yes to your mother is the knowledge that the dog wouldn’t bring financial burden along with his squeaky toys. So have your mom put a little money aside, or better yet, set up a small trust (which is legal in Connecticut and most other states) expressly for the expenses that come with dog ownership. Do a guestimate of food and vet costs based on the dog’s life expectancy; the amount in the trust can be reduced down the road.

Finally, encourage your mom to keep a list of all the important things someone who cares for her dog would want to know. Are there foods he needs to stay away from? How does he let your mom know when he’s not feeling well? Which toy calms him down, and where does he like to sleep? That kind of stuff. In fact, making that list will probably help her get over her sensitivity about discussing the time when she’s no longer here. That’s because the act of caring for others – of any species – has a miraculous way of taking us out of ourselves.

Which is something I hope you’ll consider, Pet Free, when your mom is making that list of potential pooch caretakers. (If you’re allergic or just really don’t want a pet, disregard what follows, of course. I’ve been there on both counts…though now I have two dogs that I love fiercely.) I know that the weight of obligation can be crushing, but – if you’re at all open to adopting your mother’s final companion – I think there’s something pretty wonderful about inheriting love.  

Yours in tummy scratching,

Philip

No Use Crying Over a Ruined Bag.

Dear Philip,

My niece (a high school junior) asked to borrow a very nice bag from me for her winter break. She was excited about going away and promised she would take care of it, so against my better judgment I let her. The bag now has a large, dark stain on it. I have not heard directly from my niece; my sister just keeps telling me how awful her daughter feels.

I think my niece should replace the bag. She asked to borrow it and I entrusted it to her care. My sister told me the bag her daughter ruined is “ridiculously expensive,” and has offered to buy one that she thinks looks just like it, but at half the cost. Should I let her buy me the cheaper bag, or insist that she replace exactly what was damaged?

Never Lending Again

Dear Never,

 You know why I got into the advice racket? It’s because I’m tired of mean people – the Dr. Lauras of the world – making sure they lace their guidance with plenty of scorn for the folks who call or write in. I don’t care for name-calling and I don’t do mean.

That makes you something of a challenge, Never: I find myself wanting to be semi-unkind to your niece, her mom…and you. Because you’re all not only at fault, you’re also all behaving like children.

Which kind of lets your niece off the hook, because she’s at least chronologically a child. Still, once she’d damaged your bag she should have come to you herself, both to apologize and to work out a payment plan for repair or replacement. That’s called responsibility. She borrowed an expensive bag (probably in part because of the status its value would afford her), and now she needs to step up and deal with the consequence of treating something of value so carelessly.

Whether or not you should hold the kid to the full value of, let’s say, a Louis Vuitton bag…well, that we’ll get to. At the very least, she should be offering to work it off.

Ah, but what of her mother, the person who clearly must have known that her daughter borrowed a “ridiculously expensive” bag…and now wants to knock off the debt with a knock off? She’s a peach, and if I could ask you to take on just a little further expense, Never, I’d suggest that you send her a parenting book. First, she should have told her daughter that she could not borrow something so pricey, unless she was prepared to replace it. Then – post-stain – she should have marched the kid to your house for the aforementioned apology/offer to replace. Third, she should have spared you the sour-grapes “ridiculously expensive” comment and the bargain-basement replacement offer. That’s literally adding insult to (financial) injury.

Come to think of it, send her several parenting books.

Then get yourself a book on common sense, and thumb through until you find the chapter about teenagers. I feel for you, Never, but you had to know that a 16-year-old on school break is maybe not the person to entrust with something you hold valuable. That doesn’t mean your niece has no responsibility, of course, but it does mean that you’re not exactly an innocent victim in this.

A cynic will tell you that you just learned an expensive lesson. I’ll dispense with cynicism, though, and suggest that you have an opportunity to do what your sister has not, and parent your niece.

Turn down the knock-off, and insist that your niece come see you. Explain to her that she was wrong to borrow something she couldn’t easily replace, and she was wrong to let that thing come to harm. Then explain that you were wrong for not turning her down in the first place; that you missed an opportunity to help her learn when borrowing is appropriate and when it isn’t. Then split the cost with her: tell her you expect her – and not her folks – to pay you back a certain amount, over time.

And next time, Never, remember that it’s called “better judgment” for a reason.  

Yours in stain removal,

Philip