Rick Nelson and Claude Peck dispense unasked-for advice about clothing, etiquette, culture, relationships, grooming and more.

 

RN: I’m turning into one of those crazy people who yell at their fellow drivers. With the windows of my car securely closed, of course, because what Minnesotan is actually that confrontational? You know, something along the lines of, “Would It Kill You to back off my bumper, Brenda?”

 

CP: Hate that. But I had my car-repair shop install oil sprayers off the rear bumper. Seeing those tailgaters spin out into the ditch? Sweet.

 

RN: How very James Bond of you. Speaking of the movies, Would It Kill You to refrain from texting during the movie? In a darkened theater, from my perspective in the upper rows of this stadium-seating setup, your iPhone is throwing off more wattage than a klieg light.

 

CP: WIKY not to yell at the top of your lungs on your cut-rate TV commercial? The other night I heard that ad from my kitchen and I dialed 911. I was certain there was a bar brawl on my front porch.

 

RN: Broadcasters, WIKY to not increase the volume on said commercials? I swear that the ad I just saw for Invokana/Farxiga/Xifaxan/Latuda/Cymbalta/Crestor/Symbicort/Celebrex is roughly 20 decibels higher than this rerun of “The Good Wife.”

 

CP: Airlines, WIKY to allow a simple flight change without taking a pound of our flesh? Changing one leg of a flight used to cost $25 or $50, but now, with airlines making record profits, it’s at least $150, plus the cost of the flight’s price jump since the time you first booked it. Nutrageous.

 

RN: Airline passengers, WIKY to not be such jerks? Behaving badly toward that beleaguered gate agent or flight attendant is not going to get you an upgrade. Acting as if you’re the human embodiment of an Edible Arrangements Delicious Celebration fruit basket just might, however.

 

CP: While I’m on airlines, WIKY, just once to make the following announcement: “Flight 119 to LaGuardia is delayed entirely due to screw-ups on the part of our pilot and ground crew. We are terribly sorry. Everyone gets a voucher for open bar and a limo ride to the four-star hotel closest to the airport.”

 

RN: WIKY, my friend, to stop with the fantasy fiction?

 

CP: You are a professional restaurant-goer, so you surely will agree that it would not kill a person to tone down his or her nonstop eruptions of ripsnorting laughter when seated at a restaurant. Add one hefty glass of Malbec to the laugher, and I am steps away from putting a fork in it.

 

RN: A single guffaw-er, I don’t mind. A table of 12? That’s get-a-private-dining-room territory. Speaking of restaurants, WIKY, restaurateurs, to keep the by-the-glass wines below $15? Sincerely, the 99 Percent.

 

CP: Abstaining from wine and dessert knocks back the bill by like 50 percent. But doing so also makes life hardly worth the living. That dilemma has major horns. WIKY to tweet unto others as you would have them tweet unto you?

 

RN: Again with the Twitter. Hello, Earth to Claude, or should I say, @claudepeck? WIKY to put down your mobile device and hold up your end of the conversation?

 

CP: I’m sorry, were you saying something?

 

E-mail: witheringglance@startribune.com

Twitter: @claudepeck and @RickNelsonStrib