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As a lad in Charleston, I at first chafed whenever Mama would squire me to my weekly instructions at Miss Buelah Fontaine's Palmetto Street Finishing Academy for Young Gentlemen. "Oh, Mama, must I?" I would plead. "I would much rather fish and hoop-roll and play mumblety-peg with the other boys." But Mama - God rest her overbearing memory - remained insistent, for she knew that under the stern tutelage of Miss Fontaine her son would grow into a true Carolina Gentleman, deft in the social graces and ready to ascend the ladder of societal respectability.The evidence of time has, I hope, proven Mama's wisdom. With every thwack of Miss Buela's corrective switch, I soon learned the fine art of gentlemanliness; the Windsor knot, the four-in-hand, the gracious bow, the waltz, entering one's name on a dance card, the proper way to hold one's refreshments. By my 16th birthday I was ready to make my society debut at the 1971 Charleston Boy's Cotillion. Oh, how Mama and Miss Buelah beamed with matronly pride as I promenaded across the ballroom floor with my escort (and second cousin once removed) Miss Blanche Dwerryhouse. I like to think Daddy would have beamed at my dashing waltz too, had he not been delayed by an emergency prior engagement that magical Charleston evening.Yes, the lessons I learned from Miss Buelah have served me in good stead throughout the years. As Fall rush chairman at my fraternity, I tutored all freshman pledges in the ways of genteel chivalry that made Phi Alpha Gamma renowned as the "Dandy Lads of Greek Row." Later, as a gallant young lieutenant in the Army's crack Mauve Beret JAG corps special lawsuit unit, I commanded Company B - the famed "Decorum's Dozen." And today, I am proud and humbled that my esteemed colleagues on the Democratic side of the aisle have elected me as the U.S. Senate's Mr. Congeniality for 12 years running. My experience has only served to underscore Miss Buelah's perspicacity, for I have seen that convivial manners always provide a welcome lubricant to social intercourse; whether it takes place in a fraternity bunkroom, the JAG officers barracks, or the late-night well of the Senate.
