Witty & Wise Ties, Trivia & Lies
Once upon a time, I forgot my neckwear one day. It made me dizzy to have a naked neck, but I was already on the road to Delta in my jalopy truck. Turn back? Nope. I had things to do. I pulled over to the side of the road on I-80 near Saltair to quickly draw Bow Tie o’ the Day on my neck. Have pen, will draw bow tie!
#mynostrilsarebiggerthanyournostrils
#thepenismightierthantheideaofbeingseenwithoutabowtie
#yesinoticedthewordpenisisintheabovehashtagsorry
Teensy Bow Tie o’ the Day comes to us in a photo from a LAGOON visit a couple of years ago. I like this photo because it not only has a bigly tooth in it, but it illustrates how laughable I can sometimes look when I try to be tough. Me trying to intimidate with my ripped self can come off looking more like me trying to resemble a cartoon character. I’m an uber-resilient broad—as strong as they come. But being all in-your-face pugilistic does not match my deep, bipolar, American soul. Oh, I have to admit I can rustle up some truly piercing faces when it’s absolutely necessary. If you’re a teacher or a parent or a spouse, if you have any chance of surviving your duties, you MUST have a quiver full of faces which will wordlessly get your point across to whoever it is you’re trying to reach.
You know that thing about how some people have eyes in the back of their heads, cuz they somehow see everything that goes on anywhere in their vicinity? The back of my head really does. I see everything, even if it’s in the next room. I apparently have the ability to conjure up more than one I’m-all-business-so-knock-it-off face in the back of my head. I developed and honed such back-o’-the-head faces while teaching in Baltimore, strictly as a method of survival. You have to have those “looks” to quiet a rowdy class, nip trouble in the bud, and to successfully break up physical altercations without getting clocked yourself. But my tough glares bear no resemblance to what I’m all about. Fight Club R Not I.
In yesterday’s second post, I rambled on about how important it is to have rubbed shoulders with at least a handful of super-good folks in your life—people of character and compassion and insight. People worth emulating. And when you get yourself in a predicament, and you’re not sure what your next move should be, you can call on them for help, in person or in your mind. You can ask yourself what you think that person would do in your situation. The key to this strategy working is you have to be careful who you choose to consult with.
On the other hand, this whole panel-of-experts-in-your-head tool can work in reverse too—and still for your benefit. In my wanderings, I’ve met some people who don’t have any sense at all anywhere in their DNA. I’ve also met hateful people whose sketchy advice I would never take. You know persons like this too. Their image of themselves is that they are above the laws and civility that the rest of us cherish. They see our generosity as weakness. They believe you and I exist in order to serve them. They are in it for themselves, and for no other. Their lives are a mess because they are a mess. In short, they’re @$$holes.
I’ll just call one of these malicious people I know “A” for the purpose of this example. A few years ago when Suzanne bought a car from her dad, we took the title to the DMV to register it. Suzanne was filling out the required information on the title, when she got to the little box where you’re supposed to put the amount you paid for the car. Of course, people often fudge on that. They write in a lesser amount, to save a little on taxes. She jokingly asked me what amount she should put? I jokingly asked her, “What Would ‘A’ Do? (WWAD).” Neither one of us wants to ever be like “A,” so the right answer was clear. We did the opposite of what the predatory “A” would have done. We have used “A” as an anti-guiding light many times. Our ethical compasses are intact, so we don’t really need to ask WWAD, but doing it is fun. In fact, Suzanne and I make a game of going against what “A” would do—in bigly situations and in small ones.
So you see, bad examples can teach you valuable lessons. Bad examples can keep you on the right track, out of disgust for their nefarious behavior. A bad example is a weapon you can utilize for doing good, if you know how to use it properly. In the wrong hands, the WWAD weapon can lead you so far off the radar, you’ll wake up one morning and realize you are now just another @$$hole among @$$holes.
So Suzanne wrote down the exact dollar-amount she’d paid her dad for the vehicle. It cost more to register the car than we could have made it cost, but it didn’t cost her any character points on her Permanent Record.
If you’re anything like me, over the years you have developed your own pantheon of go-to experts you can summon up in your own mind when you find yourself in a predicament, with a pocketful of questions. They are generally folks whose character you admire and try to emulate. Of course, there’s Jesus, and the What Would Jesus Do? (WWJD) question to help guide you. A lot of people use that one.
One of my staples is WWJJD—as in What Would Judge Judy Do? Judy is bigly on fairness. She’s also loud and funny. She knows what to do and say in every situation. If you’re as lucky in the mother department as I am, you also consider What Would Mom Do? (WWMD). My mom is what I consider to be Judge Judy Lite. She can size up a situation in two seconds and then tell a hilarious and relevant true story that gives you a clue about your best options for solving a problem.
It’s always good to follow-up any need for assistance with WWDD—as in What Would Dad Do? It was Dad’s spirit I called upon a couple of day’s ago. I was cooking, and I nearly decapitated the tip of my left index finger while opening a package of Omaha Steaks. Oh, how the blood did spurt! Suzanne almost called 911, and she told me I needed a stitch or three. I did not disagree with her about the stitches, but there’s a pandemic going on out there, which made me leary about heading off to a hospital for a measly stitch.
I reflected on Dad and his occasional wounds from mishaps he incurred in the course of his beekeeping and bricklaying. He was not a klutzy guy at all, but accidents happen. During my kidhood, I witnessed him care for a number of work-wounds to his appendages. I did not witness him go to the doctor for his wounds. He sucked it up, cleaned it up, wrapped it up, and healed himself. WWDD? If Dad had maimed his finger as badly as I vexed mine, he would have simply stayed home and fallen asleep reading his newspaper. I knew sculpting myself a bandage and bending a splint—before falling asleep while reading the paper—would be exactly what he would counsel me to do.
Bandage Tie o’ the Day has aided my finger-healing greatly. I’m always happy to have an excuse to wear this novelty neckwear specimen. A terrific feature of bandage Tie is its padding in its middle section, just like with a real Band-Aid. If you ever see me wearing this live-and-in-person, please feel free to touch Tie for yourself. I believe in sharing the groovy stuff o’ life, no matter how ridiculous.
#stuckathometoolong #takeapictureitwilllastlonger #strikeabowtieothedaypose #wheredidallthevintagecamerasgotodie #aselfieisworthathousandwords #timeforahairscut
Once again, it is my fashion honor to proclaim that paisley is one of The Style Wonders of the World—right up there with argyle and polka dots. I’m sure you can tell from how often you’ve heard me rave about it, that paisley has given deep meaning to my life. I can’t explain it. It’s just such a cool design. In a world full of pandemics and hate, paisley never lets me down. Maybe that’s a bit of an overstatement, but I’m stickin’ to it.
Paisley wood Bow Tie o’ the Day is but one more piece of proof for your eyes that paisley rules. Bow Tie is the newest acquisition in my collection, and I’m sure there will be more paisley pieces to come. Even though I feel like I’m pretty much done building up my neckwear collection, there will always be room for one more paisley-pattern item. A paisle (singular for “paisley”) a day, keeps my bipolarity away. Okay, that clearly was hyperbole.
Here I sit, with Bow Tie o’ the Day, in my own loft. I am in my pain doc’s “waiting room” on my laptop, waiting for my doc to show up to my online appointment. Of all the pandemic-related life adjustments that I have personally had to make, the virtual doc appointments have been a pleasant surprise. It has been a pleasure to not have to spend time driving to and from doctor appointments. It takes longer to drive to doc appointments than it takes to have the appointment itself. It worked especially well for my crazy head therapy appointment, which is normally a one-hour drive each way, for a 30-minute appointment. For my last crazy head therapy appointment, which was online, I spent 5 minutes in the virtual waiting room, then chatted with my doc for 30 minutes, and that was that. Saved time, saved gas, saved possible road rage.
Of course, there are some doc appointments that just don’t work online. For example, I had an appointment scheduled with a plastic surgeon in April—to look into getting a breast reduction. It took me forever to get an appointment with this particular doctor. I waited months. And then a week before my scheduled April appointment, I got a call from the plastic surgeon’s office, saying they weren’t doing in-office visits. They wanted to do a Zoom appointment, or reschedule for a few months down the road. How do I put this? I felt like a televisit wouldn’t capture all the relevant information. Plus, going topless online, even for a medical exam, even for a valid medical reason, just ain’t my thing. Yes, I’ve visited a nude beach or two in my day, but this feels to me like a whole different can o’ worms.
Gracie’s both. It simply depends on whether you’re counting by months or years. Either way, it was Grace Anne’s birthday yesterday. Her sparkly butt bow on her birthday outfit is our Bow Tie o’ the Day. Alas! For reasons of schedule and then pandemic, I have not been able to see Gracie or her parents—Bishop Travis and Bishopette Collette—in person since just before Christmas. I do not like that one dang bit.
Anyhoo… Gracie is the perfect blend of blessing and scamp. I hear she started walking a few days ago. I also hear she is already a speedy pro. Based on the library of videos starring Grace I’ve watched over the last few months, I can tell you she lives up to her initials: GAB. She gabs away, often at the top of her lungs. As for her pink bear, which has been a way to chart her growth in monthly pix, she now towers over it. Month 1, she was so tiny she was almost lost in the bear’s fur. Now, she owns that fluffy, pink beast!
Have you ever wanted to eat an entire bottle of maraschino cherries, but you knew it was just plain wrong? Exotic bird feather Bow Tie o’ the Day and I did some thinking, and we decided we might just be able to make this pandemic-thing work to our advantage. I mean—what better excuse to eat whatever you want than a pandemic? We bought a spectrum of somewhat unnecessary food items we don’t ordinarily buy: maraschino cherries (both red and green), cocktail onions, gourmet pickles, and peeled white asparagus spears.
I ate the entire bottle of red maraschino cherries while watching LIVE PD one Friday night, then I started on the bottle of green ones just to see what the difference is. (The only difference between the red and green maraschino cherries is—you guessed it—the color.) No worries! It’s ok, cuz there’s a pandemic out there! The next night, during Saturday’s LIVE PD, I ate most of the cocktail onions. I followed that up on the Sabbath with eating white asparagus and pickles. I was spoiling myself with food-ish food, which is what everyone deserves to do in the midst of a pandemic. In a pandemic, everything makes sense to put on your shopping list, including every different flavor of Oreo you can try. What’s a pandemic for? Best. Excuse. To. Eat. Weirdly. Ever.
I can’t decide what this get-up is, let alone whether or not I like it. Bling is always a fine thing, don’t get me wrong. But when all you’re wearing is bling, I don’t know if that qualifies as attire. When I see clothing such as this, my first thoughts are these: What kind of person would buy this for themselves, and where would they wear it? I honestly have no answers to those questions. A “dress” like this does not compute with me in any way. I do not know how to be a person who would think this outfit is a good idea. I have attended some swanky events in my day, but I have never graced a shindig at which this item would be deemed right-on. On the other hand, wear whatever blows your dress up!