Social Q’s: Announcing a Death on Social Media

Carole, New York

I’m sorry for your loss, Carole. (And hope your son restrained himself from creative use of hashtags: #bummer.) I also hope that none of your ex’s immediate family or close friends learned of his death via social media.

To me, Facebook and Twitter are too chilly for sharing tragedies with our nearest and dearest. Not to mention that these posts would be sandwiched between gags by Jimmy Fallon and clips of Honey Boo Boo. On the other hand, social media seem well suited for spreading the word to workaday pals — after our first- (and possibly second-) tier folks have been notified.

Ideally, your son and his stepmother should have agreed on a communication plan in advance: I’ll call Aunt Margaret, you tell his tennis pro. But I am willing to cut your son some slack, and hope that you and his stepmother will do the same. It’s only natural that he would turn to his comfort zone in a time of grief. For you and me and others north of 32, that would almost certainly involve a telephone.

But for your son, who probably picks up the phone to speak rarely, if ever, his impulse would be to text and tweet and post his sad news on Facebook. There is little use in bemoaning our changing times. I just hope we all find what we need in our dark hours. And no matter what your son thinks, he should apologize to his stepmother for hurting her feelings.

Eight Guests, Six Gifts

We gave an elaborate paintball party for our son’s 12th birthday. We opened gifts and served cake at home. I was surprised that only six of the eight guests brought birthday gifts. I was even more surprised that neither of the (nongifting) boys nor their parents expressed any remorse for coming empty-handed. We live in a wealthy beach enclave, so financial trouble is probably not a factor. Am I wrong or petty in assuming that everyone should have brought a gift? And what should I say to my son, who hasn’t asked about the boys who stiffed him?

S. S., Del Mar, Calif.

You’re probably not wrong, Mama Bear (and naturally feel protective of your cub), but you sound a little petty to me. Party guests with gifts are always welcome, and I would never send my child empty-handed. But carping about a subpar gift rate seems rather grubby. It was a birthday, not a barter economy.

Look on the bright side. You gave a terrific party that your son and his chums loved. He hasn’t said anything about the missing gifts. (So why bring them up? He probably didn’t notice.) Plus, there was cake! I’d call your shebang a raging success.

For your inevitable follow-up: Yes, when the monsters who came giftless invite your son to their birthdays, be the bigger person and send a present (preferably, a messy one that comes in 3 million tiny pieces).

It Was Better Than ‘Cats’

Six months ago, a former professor asked me to read a manuscript of his play, which he had professionally bound. I agreed. Yesterday, he asked if I had finished, because he wants the copy back. Unfortunately, it was awful, and I never made it past the first act. The manuscript also spent some time in a puddle of coffee. How can I avoid returning it and telling him I never finished reading it? Anonymous, New York

The coward’s way is clear: apologize profusely for having mislaid the play, which you found powerful and thought-provoking. But since you’re no coward (and gave your word), how about sitting down — right now! — and spending the 90 minutes it will take to polish off the play, while dreaming up one thing you like about it and two pieces of constructive criticism? Then apologize for the caffeine debacle as the curtain falls on a rousing ovation (and assures your glowing graduate-school recommendation).

Elbows Off Your Neighbor

At several dinner parties, I have been seated next to men who jabbed me in the arm all night to underscore their points. While the force was inconsequential, it became a nuisance as the evenings progressed. Changing seats was not an option. Any suggestions?

Stephen

Two choices, depending on your demographic and self-image: Whisper “bursitis” or “new Harley tattoo.” Either will work like a dream.

For help with your awkward situation, send a question to SocialQ@nytimes.com or SocialQ on Facebook. You can also address your queries on Twitter to @SocialQPhilip. Please include a daytime phone number.

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