two cents' worth

I love to read the "Dear Prudence" columns on Slate (you can see the most recent ones here and here), written by Emily Yoffe. Occasionally the questions are sad, heart-wrenching, the kind of family or personal drama that no one wants to find themselves in, dealing with death or violence or other terrible situations. Occasionally the questions are thought-provoking, the sort of spots we all find ourselves in now or then, with elaborate or delicate etiquette implications.

And occasionally they're just funny. A minister who doesn't like his parishioners' dogs, a boyfriend who doesn't brush his teeth, a fiancee who doesn't want to sit in her future-in-laws' family Christmas card portrait because she wants her own tradition, a woman with so much plastic surgery she thinks she's too perfect... who couldn't see the humor here? What's better is Prudence's biting humor, often poking fun at or even completely deriding the letter writer. She, for instance, informed the fiancee that after refusing to strike a pose, her new family "will be filled with seasonal joy that you'll be around for the holidays for the rest of their lives." And she told the would-be Barbie that after being "cut and sucked and stuffed head to toe" she can't possibly look natural anymore and should stop worrying and find a therapist.

But among her hilarious puns and one-liners, she gives fantastic advice. Really logical, thought-out, and correct instructions for people in all kinds of situations, from an abusive spouse to a dog that won't quit peeing on the wall. This is really why I read her column; the humor is just an added bonus.

I wish I could give advice like that. I've got the sarcasm and amused snorts down for those with the weird or silly problems, but I'd love to have the ability to produce concise and accurate advice for those with more serious problems. I think I just like to help, to be of some use.

I can't think of a time when someone really wowed me with advice given to me. Or is it that I'm so stuck in my ways I wouldn't recognize it even if it reached out and slapped me in the face and said, "hey, I'm good advice, take me!" I did have a friend tell me once that I was dating the wrong guy, and she was right, but it was probably pretty obvious to anyone who knew both of us. And fellow bloggers often point out things I hadn't yet considered, but the blog world is different as I'm much more open here. I think I'm probably just one of those people that hides my insecurities and puts on such a steely facade that no one thinks I need advice. Or at least I hope so?

Anyway, what's the last great advice you've given, received, or heard?