YOUR PROBLEMS SOLVED .
Dear Mary.. .
From: Dame Edna Everage, Aspen, Colorado Q. I try to answer fan mail personally. That is to say, I personally pay the woman who answers my fan mail. I also give autographs, sometimes with a lovely photo by Lichfield, Snowdon or my son Kenny. Often, howev- er, people in the street ask for my auto- graph and they don't even have a pen or a piece of paper. Others demand multiple autographs which they probably sell, and others, when requesting my signature, say very pointedly that it isn't for them. 'It's for a friend of a friend.' I'm a bit of a saint, Mary, let's face it, but when should I draw the line and tell them to get lost, in a caring way? And what should I say?
A. Ask your secretary to run off some pho- tocopied questionnaires headed boldly: Fan Facts', and carry a supply of these for distribution to predatory admirers. You can explain, as you hand them over, that you like to give really personalised messages with your autographs, as your fans mean such a lot to you. They must fill in their full details on the lengthy and intimately prob- ing questionnaires, which should be posted back to your secretary so that you can give them your undivided attention in the priva- cy of your own home.
From: Lady Annabel Goldsmith, Richmond Surrey Q. Someone once said, 'When you are young you are afraid of being boring, but as you get older you are afraid of being bored.' Alas this is true. I am constantly invited to dinner by a perfectly nice couple whose parties, which I have frequently attended in the past, bore me to distrac- tion; not wishing to hurt or be impolite, I have tried every excuse imaginable from voice loss, sprained ankles, sick children and lately, a brilliant one, visiting my youngest daughter in Pakistan. All to no avail. With relentless persistence I am pre- sented with new dates, always by telephone, accompanied by a list of the guests expect- ed, and with weary obduracy I think up more and more implausible reasons for not attending. I do not flatter myself that I am one of those bright stars without whom the dinner would be a dismal failure, nor do I feel that my fellow guests are desperate to meet me since they have already done so on .countless occasions at other dinners. I believe it was Bernard Shaw who, having sat through a particularly boring soiree, thanked his hostess with these words: :Thank you for inviting me, I enjoyed myself immensely.' I wish I could emulate him. Your advice is welcome.
A. Surely there are some dullards whom you need to work off but cannot face the thought of spending an evening with in your own home? Next time the couple ring up, say, 'I'd love to come but I've got peo- ple staying that night, so unless I could bring them it wouldn't really be possible.' No doubt their eagerness to secure your own attendance will be so overwhelming as to embrace the inclusion of up to four oth- ers (over whose identities you can be vague). You can then ring round some of those you have been feeling guilty about, and invite them to stay on that particular night. By learning to dilute dullards in this way, you could turn this couple's persis- tence to your advantage and even start to look forward to their calls.
From: The Hon. Jessica Mitford, Oakland, California Q. The other day at a 75th birthday cele- bration, I sat with a recently widowed friend, E. Person after person came up with variations on the theme of, 'How are you feeling, my dear?'; 'It must have been a ter- rible blow'; 'Are you over the worst of it?' and much more along the same lines, all delivered in funereal tones and with suit- ably grave faces. My friend, who had been looking forward to this social outing, said she was beginning to feel as though she had had open-heart surgery. I promised to fend off any other would-be sympathisers. Several did come up, and I just said, `Awfully sorry, E was telling me a joke and she was just about to give the punch line,' or some such off-putting remark. This was quite effective, but what would you have suggested, Mary?
A. Your own solution was ideal. Widows and widowers should seek out jovial min- ders to accompany them on such early out- ings following bereavement.
From: Ginny Elliot MBE, Middle Barton, Oxfordshire Q. While staying with friends for a three- day event, I woke up in the early hours wanting to 'go'. The bathroom was not en suite but, having switched on the passage light, I walked confidently into where I thought it was. Imagine my horror (com- pounded by the fact I had forgotten to bring a nightgown) when I bumped into, and fell heavily onto, a bed from which a male face blinked in amazement. I turned and fled, and the following day the man in question never mentioned the incident.. I still do not know if he recognised me and, if he did, what construction he put on my blunder. How can I make sure he does not tell everyone I was making a pass at him, or find out whether he even remembered the incident at all?
A. Enlist the help of a friend who will shortly be running into this man on the social circuit. 'Hello!' she should scream raucously on seeing him. 'Now who was it told me the most hilarious story about you the other day? About how they blun- dered into your bedroom in the nude look- ing for a lavatory? Now, who was it? I've been drinking so much lately, I can't remember.'
From: David Hockney, Los Angeles Q. When I meet a new person I am obliged to adjust my hearing-aid to the pitch of their voice. What is the correct facial expression to wear while I am carrying out this procedure?
A. Cock your head to one side and bat your• eyelids up and down to give an impression of total amiability, which will put people at their ease but prevent them from firing questions until you are quite ready.
From: The Rt Hon. Michael Heseltine, Cabinet Office, London SW1 Q. I find June to be quite the most pleasant month in which to canvass. Elections in June afford one the chance of visiting many gardens in their first bloom of summer. I have never been able to decide whether I should tell prospective voters that both the conifer and the flowering shrub they have planted less than four feet apart will in 15- 20 years dominate their garden to the detri- ment of everything else they arc trying to grow. Or should I just say how well their • plants are doing?
A. Why not first praise, then damn by say- ing 'What wonderful healthy growth, quite astounding . . . But you know, it's. inter- esting. That conifer seems to be doing so well, it looks so promising. At the very least it seems harmless. Yet give it a chance and in a few years it will have grown so big as to overshadow and destroy everything else you hold dear in this established garden. And that's the trouble with the Labour Party!'
Mary Killen
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