My friend, Valarie, introduced her then-boyfriend, now husband, to me distinctively:

"Marcello is one of the few gentlemen left in America."

Heady statement, eh? But true!

Courtship ain't what it used to be. It's not that romance is dead, but evolving gender roles have helped erase the gentlemanly behavior that used to make women feel, well, more womanly.

I don't want to give up my right to earn a living or pay my own way, but watching Marcello in action can make a girl nostalgic for that "simpler time."

He dances, can guide a woman on a dance floor, and takes his lady dancing.

He opens doors and pulls out chairs.

He intervenes when service is bad, or when someone's being rude.

We were out dancing one night, just the three of us, and a man — no, not a man, some "typical guy" — came up to Marcello and said since he had two chicks, he ought to share one of us.

Marcello said, "I think you should ask what the lady wants."

He got a smooch on the cheek for that one.

He doesn't behave this way because he's a simpering fool trying to curry favor with women. He does it because he enjoys taking care of them. He learned it from his family — who, incidentally, are from Argentina. Hmm, maybe we'll need to start importing gentlemen if they can no longer be properly cultivated here.

I know there are still lots of gentlemen out there, somewhere, beyond my field of vision.

Maybe today's American woman is so aggressively independent she cows man's natural gentlemanly inclination.

Or maybe America's multimedia lifestyle is erasing simple human connectivity in lots of ways, not just in this. But maybe especially in this.

I don't know why gentlemanliness is disappearing, but all-too often it swings the opposite way.

I went on a date where the guy dropped the "f-bomb" every other sentence. No one's language is pristine these days — certainly not mine — but you hear that word and its brothers and sisters often enough on a date and you begin to wonder why you bothered to wear a dress. Break out the Budweiser and turn on the game already.

On another night, I was out dancing and some guy slid up behind me and started grinding like he was Patrick Swayze and I was Jennifer Grey. Seriously, when did this become OK? I don't care how often you see it in rap videos, don't do it! Women hate it, it makes them feel like meat.

Sigh.

It would be nice if some of the more customary male-female interactions would return. And, to all the gentlemen out there, if you do as Marcello does and find it gets you nowhere, keep at it. It's a dying art, we need more of you out there.

To be fair, someone should probably give equal time on the issue of declining ladylike behavior.

But that's for another column. And ... probably someone else's column.

Reach Christine Strobel at cstrobel@honoluluadvertiser.com.