Humor by DAR

Dear Dr. Divorced
(Etiquette for the No-Longer-Hitched)

Despite the fact that half of all American men undergo the rite of divorce sooner or later, most of us haven't a clue how to comport ourselves through it with any degree of grace. We think we automatically have to go to war, scorn the ex, and speak ill of those extended family members we used to call our own. As though our default is set to beastliness.

Wouldn't it be great if we could default to courtliness, or at least civility? If there were a divorce Ph.D. out there to answer our questions, lay some ground rules, and reveal to us the etiquette of divorce -- which is every bit as rigorous as the etiquette of courtship?

After a good many years tilling the sandy soil of divorce, I humbly volunteer to get the ball rolling. Here's how it might work.

Dear Dr. Divorce: This is the most embarrassing divorce problem. I still love my first wife and find myself with no will to stick up for my rights. What's my problem?

As a duckling will imprint the first thing that feeds it, and thereafter follow around the dishwasher repairman as its ever-loving Ma, so do first husbands and wives imprint upon each other, for better or worse. Of course you still love her. We all love our first to some degree or another, and they us. That's what all the heat lightning is about. But that doesn't mean you can't fight for the home team. Your destinies are separate.

Dear Dr. Divorce: Why isn't hatred appropriate?

Sometimes it is. There are cases when it's the only way. But in the majority of divorces, both parties are still the good people they represented themselves to be in the first place. Being courteous only acknowledges that fact -- plus it facilitates the joint custody day care system, the best babysitting game in town.

Dear Dr. Divorce: My ex just broke up with her boyfriend and I found myself feeling sad for her. Am I being a wuss?

You're being practical. You know she's at her best when happily involved with a man. You don't want the mother of your kids on a short fuse.

Dear Dr. Divorce: So jealousy isn't appropriate, either?

Right. Strive to get to the point where you can see the letters "TONY" in her desk calendar and not care, even before you realize it is not the name of some new Latin lover but only that she's going "TO NY."

Dear Dr. Divorce: I'm used to most aspects of divorce, but the grammar still gets sticky enough to upset our child. Must I always refer to my ex in the past tense?

Chances are she still is a graphics designer, still does have brown eyes. Divorce did not make her die nor change her eyes to blue. As with most linguistic modifications, new behavior modes will follow, and your kid won't have to mourn every time your ex gets referred to.

Dear Dr. Divorce: The linguistics of custody are a tricky business. How can I remedy this sentence?: "Mom's coming to take you back home."

a. Not "Mom" but "your Mom."

b. Not "home" but "her house."

c. Never "back." This is here and that's there, but neither is "back."

The neutralized sentence, then, would read: "Your Mom's coming to take you to her house."

Dear Dr. Divorce: On the subject of words, can we at last banish the term "amicable?"

I agree: it is Edwardian. It implies correctness without the zeal of cordiality -- sort of the difference between saying "hello" and "hi." The older generation favored it, but they weren't familiar with ex-husbands who still take their family car to the wash, ex-wives who become god mothers to their ex's new children, and recombinant families thrown together for weddings, graduations, etc.

Dear Dr. Divorce: So if we're to be on "hi" terms, what's the etiquette when we're thrown together?

Imagine a civilized scenario. Say you and your ex are in a car together, driving to a prep school interview for your joint child. You've packed along a cooler of snacks. The etiquette proscribes that if your ex wants a grape, you will hold the bunch out without plucking one for her directly. You may proffer, in other words, but you may not pluck.

You may nibble one of her potato chips but not bite of her sandwich.

You may sample food from each other's forks but not sip from the same glass.

You may share the same napkin but not the same tissue.

You may burp discreetly but you must always, always, excuse yourself now.

The operative principle is you're close but not too. Let it be a strained intimacy. The discipline of distance should be an ascetic exercise that will put you both on your best behavior.

Dear Dr. Divorce: If one of us sneezed --?

By all means, say gesundheit. But if one of you is coughing, do not clap each other's backs.

Dear Dr. Divorce: And if one's ex had a piece of parsley on her teeth, would one point it out?

Grey area. Go with your gut.

Dear Dr. Divorce: More, please.

You may peck on the cheek but not on the lips.

Wish each other happy birthday, but don't exchange presents.

Permit one another to enter each other's houses without knocking, but don't attend each other's parties.

Be more comfortable with each other on the phone than in person.

Prefer to have a table between you, or better yet, a screen door. Don't, in other words, allow too many full frontals.

Dear Dr. Divorce: Sort of like a distant brother and sister?

Not quite. More like lovers in reverse, at the stage of a second date, familiar with each other but no longer bonded, still a little reserved, becoming more reserved all the time.Divorce is the inverse of courtship. Strive to become shy.

Dear Dr. Divorce: How do I know when I've got it?

OK, a pop quiz. Same civilized scenario as above, a few hours later. After the prep school interview, let's say a blizzard hit. You are now snowed in at a hotel with only one available room. You all settle in for the night. Do you --

a. close the bathroom door between you when you make your nightly libations?

b. use the same hair brush but not the same toothbrush?

c. borrow each other's nail clipper but not nail file?

d. do your nightly stretches at the same time but not next to each other?

If you answered yes to all of the above, you're on your way.

Dear Dr. Divorce: What about more intimate procedures?

Get twin beds. Ex-sex always backfires.