Witty & Wise Ties, Trivia & Lies
And by Sunday afternoon, we were in Nashville. I chose paisley, on paisley, on paisley for my traveling attire. Bow Tie o’ the Friendly Skies is two of my fave things: paisley and wood. Bow Tie scored me bigly points with the flight crew when we boarded the plane.
I am humbled by how much love has surrounded me from the moment I took my first breath. Thank you, Suzanne, for your steadiness. I’m sorry I am so often a storm.
Merry Valentine’s Day, y’all!
Lipstick note Tie o’ the Day sets out early to remind you of the lost art of writing love notes. You have to go Old School, folks. Don’t do all that sweet talk through emails or texts. That will not suffice. Find the pencil in your junk drawer. And even though it’s broken in half, has no eraser, and the point is broken off, sharpen that pencil. Use the sorta broken pocketknife that’s also in your junk drawer to whittle it to a proper point. I bet there’s an old receipt or envelope in the junk drawer too, the backs of which have plenty of room for writin’. Scribble out a sincere, handwritten love note. Your person will thank Tie and you bigly that you took the time to write a love note the old-fashioned way. 💌 ❣ 💝💘
I sported my Valentine bear Tie o’ the Day to visit my ear doctor to get my hearing aid tuned up. He changed some filters and adjusted some other hearing aid innards. I don’t know that his work really helped much more than just the tiniest bit. My right ear is on its last leg, and my left ear registers only tinnitus. My hearing is hopeless.
At least I got to stand in front of a poster of an ear and see how I would look if I had an enormous right ear. While my doc was tinkering with my ear gadget, I tried to decipher some of the autographs on my doc’s prized JAZZ basketball. I check it out at every appointment, and I still can’t figure out whose autograph is whose.
If you wanna speak to me and make sure I hear you these days, you probably oughta use at least a cheerleader megaphone, pointed directly at one of my ears—while standing as near to me as you possibly can. I CAN’T HEAR YOU NOW!
I know it’s just my age being age-y, so I’m not really complaining about the normal breaking down of eardrums. It is what it is, as we say. But I am also complaining a bit because I’m having to do a lot of nodding and acting like I know what’s going on around me, when I can’t hear anything but a bloody mumble from anyone. I play like I’ve heard and understood because I do not want to annoy people by asking them to repeat and repeat and repeat what they’ve taken the time to say to me. I trust that Suzanne will drag me aside and loudly alert me if someone says something I absolutely must know. If you hear her yelling at me, don’t be alarmed. We’re fine. She’s just translating for me.
[This is a re-post of a popular tale from August 2018—about three weeks after my Hanky Panky surgery. I was recuperating, mostly by not-lifting things around the house, on Suzanne’s orders. Enjoy.]
Bow Ties o’ the Day had a fantastic time at Cafe Niche for Sunday brunch. As you can see, Suzanne wanted to get in on the bow tie act. We donned our bow tie bibs for the feast because we were famished, and we were afraid we might eat sloppily. The bow ties on each bib did a perfect job of keeping our clothing from being defaced by our lack of delicate eating. And bigly Bow Tie o’ the Day presents its grapes– Mormon grapes for Sunday, I’m sure.
Brunch can have a calming effect. I recommend it when you’re stressed out or tense. Suzanne and I stressed ourselves out by having a little tiff last night— over nothing of any real importance. But the tiff happened, and the tiff went on in silence, right on into this morning.
In the middle of the night when I had to potty, I ended up using the last few squares on the toilet paper roll. There was a new roll on the bathroom vanity, three inches from the tp holder. Normally, of course, I’d change out the empty roll—no matter what time of the middle of the night it was. But I was still miffed about the tiff, and there was no way in heck I was gonna politely take the old roll off and put the new one on. Nope. Suzanne was gonna have to do it herself the next time she needed to potty. (That’ll teach her!) And do you know what I thought in my tiff-miffed head as I walked back to bed? I thought with great sarcasm, “Well, she told me I wasn’t allowed to lift anything, and I’m sure that includes a roll of toilet paper.” And I sooo wanted her to say something to me about the empty toilet paper roll incident this morning, so I could say the same snotty thing right to her precious face. But she said nothing about it. And then we went to brunch, and everything got forgiven and forgotten.
Bow Tie o’ the Day’s fabric shows off pavers, which is why it is named PAVERLY by my go-to bow tie manufacturer—Beau Ties of Vermont. I decided it was a fitting choice for this outing because pavers can be used to create a path that can be traveled more easily, more beautifully, and safer than before the pavers were set down. Suzanne and I were at Utah Valley University last week to attend an event about some of the Utah women who paved—and continue to pave— their own roads, to everybody’s benefit.
The presentation was called CELEBRATING UTAH WOMEN: REMEMBERING THE PAST TO SHAPE THE FUTURE. Mom would have enjoyed the speakers. She has always emphatically said, “We need more women in charge of things!!!!! They see the big picture!!!!!” (Yes, she says it with that many exclamation points.) To which I usually say, “Gee, Mom. Tell us what you really think.” Mom’s opinions are not shy. They just show up and get right in your face, and you have to deal with ’em. I absolutely treasure Mom for that feistiness. That woman has blazed her own bigly trail, and more than a few of us have benefited from spending some time on it with her, when our own path was too much to handle at the time.
We can’t take the same exact path others have taken. We are, each of us, unique. Only your own trail will fit you. Our paths are not One Size Fits All. Your path is One Size Fits One. Of course, we will inevitably use each others’ paths on occasion. We can’t help it, cuz so much paving has already been done for us. And if someone ahead of us has blazed a fruitful and captivating path, we can take it and add our own detours which align with our individual destinations. We don’t have to lay every paver that ends up under our feet. Thank you, ancestors.
For example, I don’t have to fight to win the right to vote—even though I’m JUST a girl. A lot of somebodies already paved that trail for me. They “won” that right just for little ol’ me, so I don’t have to fight for it. Neither do you. I’ve got my right to vote, and with it comes a responsibility. To me, I am disrespectful of those who wrangled me that right if I don’t use it. And so I vote.
I am free to fight other fights that matter to me and the bigly planet. It’s my responsibility to fight those fights I can—most of which can be won by simple human kindness to/from all those involved. I am obligated to fight, and in so doing, change the world even the teensiest bit by setting down my own twisting and turning paver paths. Somebody is gonna need to use my road to make their own.
Whether you are aware of it or not, somebody’s always behind you on the path you pave. Actually, “multitudes” is probably closer to the count of those who look to you. Do you really want them to follow you? Are you comfortable with them seeing the road you’ve built? If you aren’t, you’ve done some evil paving, and you are running out of time to fix it. Get your tools out.
BTW The editor of THE SALT LAKE TRIBUNE, Jennifer Napier-Pierce was a presenter at the event. I realized she had been a student in a writing class I taught at the U of U in the late 80’s. I must have been an incredible teacher, if she’s now the editor of a statewide newspaper.
Another BTW It is “true” that THE TRIB is the “evil” newspaper of the two major papers in Salt Lake City, so only apostates read it.😜 Still, Mom and Dad were forever what I call TRIBBERS, as am I.
The Red Carpet was a blast last night. I’m sure you saw people fawn over me in my bee gown as I made my way into the Oscars. I had to choose the bee-themed gown. I would have been disowned by my entire family if I had a chance to wear bees and honeycomb, but didn’t. It really was the grooviest selection of the gowns I tried on.
My top three highlights of the night: 1. Elton John invited me to sit on his piano while he performed. 2. I was within 30 feet of the magnificent Renee Zellweger. 3. Leonardo DiCaprio stuck me in the pocket of his tux jacket, fulfilling my dream of one day becoming a fancy pocket square.
The Academy Awards ceremony is tomorrow night, and I’m still trying on gowns for my Red Carpet stroll. Bow Tie o’ the Day likes this timeless dress. I’ve been cogitating about it, and this might be one of those occasions when classic stands out. All the other famous folks’ attempts at fab fashion will be bang-flash-bling, blinding the spectators. In all the ostentatiousness and roar of the Oscars commotion, a simple and classic gown like this might be the dress everyone remembers. Attending in a dress which is so “not-me” might be just the ticket to achieving my next level of fame.
Check out this pic I found in an old box. That’s my beardless, beekeeper dad, posing with 4 of his Wiley Coyote pals. Dad loved to hunt coyotes, and their bounties helped pay our bills through many a winter—while the bees went on vacation to anywhere it wasn’t cold, which was usually California.
I think what made Dad such a skillful coyote hunter was that he understood them. He and the coyotes kept the same hours and roamed the same territory. They crossed paths with each other daily before dawn, covering miles and miles of the western Utah desert. They saw decades of sunrises together. Dad and his coyotes were most at home when dwelling in the first-light swell of silence as it settled across the top of the dirt beneath their feet. They respected each other.
For this photo, I chose a lavender Bow Tie o’ the Day to pose with Dad and the coyotes because Dad loved his purples. Mom made a lavender quilt for their bed when I was a kid, and it was his favorite blanket ever. Mom also gave Dad a purple nightgown for his birthday once. And it wasn’t for him to wear—if you know what I mean. 😉💜
Tie o’ the Day comes from a note pad Suzanne found at Seagull Books. Of course, she knew this was perfect for me. I want y’all to know I think the sentiment expressed is perfect for you. Go forth, and have a “tie”rific Friday!