Dear Mr. Buckley:
OK. I thought that you were breaking the rules, but it seems that I may have been breaking the rules. Perhaps salutations and surnames really are the sort of thing the Buckleys discuss over breakfast (rather than campaign-finance reform, like normal people). So I’m in, with the following points.
1. Should I not be unhappy, or less happy (you ask), with the culture of universal first names because it makes you wince to be first-named by a computer salesman? Sure, anything that makes you unhappy reduces my own happiness. (About some other conservative commentators the opposite is true. This makes life difficult. I am constantly forced to ask myself whether the pleasure something brings to Bill Buckley is worth the pleasure it might bring to Bob Novak.) Ideally, everyone should be addressed the way he or she prefers. I can be Mike, and you can be Mr. Buckley. (Although, come to think of it, I also would prefer to be addressed as Mr. Buckley.) The trouble is, there is no way for strangers like the computer salesman to know your preference. Name tags might work, and many of us might be grateful for the help even with people we know. (“Why hello there, um, er … Mom!”) But name tags gum up your clothes and fall off. I think perhaps tattoos. If it said “Mr. Buckley” across your forehead, no one would dare call you Bill.
2. Meanwhile, though, what about my needs? It makes me wince to be called Mr. Kinsley or, worse, Sir, by strangers such as salespeople and waiters, just as it makes you wince to be called William or Bill. (Close friends are welcome to call me Sir–or Mr. Buckley.) So does my unhappiness in these situations mitigate your pleasure? Since there is no way we both can be made happy here, is there any reason that your wincing should carry more weight than mine?
3. And didn’t you ever wince the other way? I hope it is no insult to say you have reached an age at which you rarely encounter a waiter or hotel bellhop older than yourself. Therefore, you can graciously accept linguistic deference as honoring your years rather than any presumed social superiority. But when you were younger, weren’t you ever uncomfortable when an older person called you Sir or grabbed your suitcase to carry for you? Would you at least agree that (except between adults and children) the practice should be symmetrical? Or are you comfortable, perhaps based on your Southern heritage, with situations where all the mistering goes one way?
4. What’s the party line on the growing practice, in written salutations, of using both first and last name? E.g., “Dear William Buckley …” Clever evasion? Or new grotesque?
I see now that this is a vast topic with many tributaries yet to be explored. But you may also change the subject if you’d like. You’re the guest.
Best wishes,
Sir Mike (“Mr. Buckley”) Kinsley
