Many people turn to me as New Jersey’s foremost expert on etiquette, as I am unfailingly kind to the weak and elderly, even though I recently have calculated how few of them actually deserve it.

Thus, a reader has e-mailed a peculiarly modern quandary regarding the rules of social graces:

Dear Guy-in-charge-of-etiquette:

I am new to the world of computers and e-mail, and find myself receiving messages from many friendly people who are concerned that I do not have enough ink cartridges or bust-enhancement equipment.

I appreciate that they thought enough of me to write, but I am overwhelmed by the number of these letters that I must answer. How can I have time for my numerous other social obligations, yet still reply to all these many new friends?”

It is heartening that some people still remember the niceties of old-fashioned correspondence. The answer I’ve developed is an all-purpose letter such as one might send to dear friends during the holidays.

Here is my most recent letter. You might modify it to with details to personalize it for all the special people who send e-mails, mail letters or knock on your door and yell drunkenly at you before abruptly turning away and wandering into traffic:

“Dearest friends,

“How lovely to have heard from you all during this bright, autumn season. In answer to your many questions about our health, our credit rating, our health insurance coverage, our desire to know if our wives or husbands are cheating on us and our ability to copulate with the frequency of rodents, things are well with us.

“The children are growing a foot at a time each day, it seems. Mother is still with us and going strong, and we count each year a blessing. Now the leaves are turn blazing reds and golds. Every autumn, this miracle surprises me anew, as do your many kind letters and offers. Every time I receive another offer to have you `connect cheating wives with single men,’ I am reminded that our time on this earth is brief, and that each of us is part of something larger. I am connected to all things, even to a naked housewife hundreds of miles away posing tastefully on a beanbag chair.

“Mostly, I am touched by all who have thought of me during what must be a busy season for you all. I think what sums it up best is a conversation I had not long ago with a woman who called while I was eating dinner and offered me a free vacation in the Bahamas or somewhere equally as good in what she called `the greater Atlantic Ocean.’ I was giving her my credit card number (for verification purposes only) when I chanced to remark, `Why do so many friendships arrive so late and leave so early?’

“ ‘Yes sir. And your Social Security number?’

“ ‘It’s 358-26-2590. It’s so easy to remember, too, because three and five are eight, and eight minus two is six. See? Now you’ve got the first four numbers memorized. Gosh, you and I have grown so close in so little time. Already, you know more financial information about me than my parents do. But now I’m babbling.’

“ ‘How about that. And do you leave your house unlocked?’

“ ‘Sure. Otherwise, I’d need keys.’

“I’m just saying that our time is short. People move on. Even your letters come and go. I remember years ago when people wrote to me from all over the world about an exciting new Caesar salad recipe. Whatever happened to the Caesar salad people? Are they well? Now it seems all my new friends want to refinance my home. When did we all grow so old?

“Already, like the seasons, our lives turn to autumn and winter, as the e-mails about mortgage refinancing rates turn into offers for wholesale prescription medications. In the end, I have only my memories, and the three defective digital cameras I bought from one of you.”

“Best to you and your family this season.”