Month: May 2020

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The One About The Senior Key

It’s amazing what a gal can find when she throws on a wood Bow Tie o’ the Day to clean out a drawer of miscellany. Yup, this is my Senior Key necklace, and I present it here during Pandemic High School Graduation season. The “key” is now 40 years ancient, although it’s still in presentable shape. I didn’t consciously try to save it all this time. It just hasn’t gotten itself lost during my many moves. Here’s a brief history of where it has lived with me, in order: Delta, Ogden (3 different compartments), SLC (5 different apartments), Arlington, VA, Takoma Park, MD (1 apartment, 1 house), Delta again, Ogden again, Centerville. I know people who have moved plenty more miles than I have, but my moves still add up to a significant number of miles—across which this necklace has traveled in one piece. It has had only one owner. It has never been in a lost-and-found box.

If you’re anything like me, you have lots more stuff than you have room for, or need of. It would save time and space to not have to look after the props of our lives, yet we find it hard to let stuff go. Why do we keep things? They’re just things. They have no spirit in them. Are we afraid we’ll forget what’s happened in our lives if we get rid of them?

The memories in our brains are where the time lives. When we tell our stories, our experiences are alive again for ourselves and for whoever we’re sharing them with. We aren’t going to forget snippets of our lives if we don’t keep the props picked up along the way. But still, it so difficult to let material things go. And when we decide what stays and what goes, we each use a logic of our own—which would make no sense to someone who hasn’t lived your life, although it makes perfect sense to you. C’mon. You know you own some items whose significance you can’t begin to explain to people who don’t know you really, really, really well.

Some folks keep everything. They’re the ones who relate better to objects than to people. And sometimes we take better care of our trinkets than we do of the people we love. It shouldn’t be that way.

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Once Again, By Request

[Yesterday, after I posted about our pandemic Mother’s Day dinner, I was asked to re-post this gem from last year’s Mother’s Day din-din. If you recall, last year at this time, I was having weekday TMS treatments to my noggin, hoping to get my bipolar brain into its right mind.]

What I did yesterday does not resemble how I am, in the least. When I started writing TIE O’ THE DAY a couple of years ago, I said I would always be as honest as possible about my circus life—good and bad. And I’m here to tell you I embarrassed even my neckwear yesterday. Only Suzanne and I know first-hand I was a jerk, but still… I was wrong.

So….. yesterday afternoon Suzanne and I had a minuscule non-Mother’s-Day-related tiff about when to binge-watch IN PLAIN SIGHT and when to do serious napping before going to dinner. Yes, the set-to was that stoopid! But you know how it goes: One of you says a kinda not nice thing; and then the other person says a kinda not nice thing; and pretty soon you’re both swept up in a huge tornado of immaturity. (Do not pretend you haven’t done it too.) I blame the TMS, cuz I don’t want to blame myself.

Before I knew it, I was in my car alone, driving to SLC to the restaurant where I had earlier in the week made Mother’s Day dinner reservations for us.I sat and ate dinner on the patio at CURRENT all by myself, crying in my halibut. (The halibut was excellent, BTW.) The whole time I was there I kept looking at the Find Friends app on my phone to see if Suzanne’s phone had left the house to come eat with me. Nope. She and her phone stayed home. I understood. Heck, even I didn’t want to be around me.

Thus, today I chose my world map Bow Tie o’ the Day as a way to express my current title of Official Ass Of The World. And I felt my offense yesterday was so childish and egregious that I also deserve to be awarded 1/2 of a trophy—to memorialize my Official Ass Of The World title.

This fine trophy is actually my 1980 Miss Liberty 1st Attendant trophy, whose top statue has long since broken off. I don’t know why this little treasure hasn’t been lost in my life’s moves. I have lost important documents and photos in almost every housing move I’ve made, but this broken trophy always finds its way to wherever I live, making itself at home. Perhaps it has stayed with me since 1980 just to fulfill its ultimate destiny as my Official Ass Of The World trophy, which I’m sure will stick around until the minute I die. I might as well get it re-engraved with my current title.

Stoopidist. Lovebird. Tiff. Ever!

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Take A Deep Breath, Then Let It Go

Got me a little bejeweled choker Tie o’ the Day.

Even though many events have been cancelled or postponed recently, we find ourselves in a year of unusual and/or extraordinary events. Some, we saw coming—like a presidential election. Some caught us by surprise—like a pandemic. As human beings, we want to know the truth about whatever goes on around us, and we want to know it NOW. We should want that. And that’s when the hullabaloo begins.

My bigly point is this: The most difficult time for ANYBODY to find the “truth” about a humongous historical event is when we are smack-dab in it. Why? Because it’s still going on. It ain’t finished yet. So I advise that we keep an eye out for slicksters who offer up the “truth” about all of it—the truth only they can see. I submit that the opposite of faith might not be doubt, my friends. The opposite of faith might just be certainty. If a slickster claims to be absolutely certain about any aspect of the pandemic, they most likely don’t know the answers they are peddling. They might have access to a fact or two, but facts alone often do not get us to a comprehensive Truth, with a capital T.

If you know me, you know I am not a blind follower. But at some point, we have to trust the people in charge—whether we want to or not. They know more about some things than we do. And besides, they’re all we’ve got. Want me to wear a mask? If there is one scintilla of a chance my mask-wearing will keep even one person from getting COVID-19, it will be my pleasure to wear it. Because I still remember my 7th grade science, I was wearing a mask and gloves before it was suggested. Conspiracy? Will this go down in history as The Great Face Mask Conspiracy That Destroyed The U.S. Economy? I kinda don’t think so. Want me to stay home? We could call this plot The Great Conspiracy To Force Us To Spend Time With Our Families And Clean Up The House. As part of that conspiracy, we blindly gave up our right to ignore the people who live with us. And who wants to live in a world where we don’t have the right to neglect our families?

As for the conspiracy theory that the pandemic has been constructed for the purpose of certain people making a ton o’ money, I offer this bit of wisdom I’ve accrued during my 56 years. The rich do not need a pandemic in order to be rich. The rich will always get richer, no matter the prevailing world conditions. (There are barely any exceptions to that, but the rarity of exceptions proves the rule.) And those who were born into poverty, will likely live in it until they die in it—no matter what the economy is doing, and no matter how hard they work to better themselves. Statistically, this is how it is. It does not make me cynical to say so. It does make me heartbroken to say so.

Until a chunk of time has passed, and until we have ALL the numbers and various statistical analyses, and research, and documents, and records, personal accounts from doctors and nurses and survivors, etc. about an event, we’re just guessing about the particulars. COVID-19 will ebb. Historians and scientists will research and write from a more informed perspective as they look at the information accrued during the pandemic. But the pandemic is so bigly, it will take years of work and research before we get anything close to a comprehensive narrative of exactly what is happening to us right now. We have to wait for the research to be done, before the history gets written. We’ll have to be patient. We should probably listen to those in charge of our predicament. We must do our own investigation and thinking, and use our own common sense. We will eventually find out what hit us, and how.

Until then, let’s fight to regain our rights to pass along deadly diseases to one another in public places, and to keep our own family members out of our houses!

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On The COVID-19 Town

Going out to dinner for Mother’s Day during the pandemic looked like this for me and Suzanne this year. I pre-ordered PAGO’s Mother’s Day Dinner feast last week, then Saturday we drove in to SLC to pick it up at the curb—where the masked woman in the background brought our fixin’s to the car. Suzanne drove us directly home to finish the final food prep, and then we ate until our bellies were full of braised chicken, salmon corn cakes, asparagus, potatoes au gratin, and carrot cake muffins. Magnetic wood Bow Tie o’ the Day presided.

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Mom’s Got ‘Tude

Mom’s a woman o’ many faces, and whatever face she presents, it unfailingly draws people to her. She’s got that rarest of personal traits: charisma. Even here, in our 70’s-orange kitchen, in her 70’s-orange slacks, with her sassy smile, Mom captivates. TIE O’ THE DAY gives a bigly Merry Mother’s Day shout-out to all of you who who do the complicated work of mothering—with your whole, thinking hearts. Mother on!

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The Bow Tie Food Group

For this post, I planned to take a selfie while showing off a few pieces of Haribo Gummi Peaches. I recently discovered each piece looks like a double bow tie of sorts—with one yellow bow tie and one orange bow tie, crisscrossing. However, by the time I had dolled up in my neckwear and found the right place to selfie, I had eaten all the Bow Tie o’ the Day gummi candies. I drew what the candies look like rather than get masked-and-gloved-up for an outing to the store to buy another package. (Not that I wouldn’t go to any length for a good ol’ TIE O’ THE DAY post.) My drawings vaguely resemble the peach gummies, it’s true. But it’s also true that my drawings resemble the sign for radiation waste. I’m sure that says more than I could ever hope to about my drawing abilities. ☢️

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Happy, Happy! Joy, Joy!

Look at my new, penguins-in-bow ties tube sox! See wood Bow Tie o’ the Day. See my white legs—the whitest white legs of all white legs! My feet are speechless! I’m too busy dancing in my new socks in The Tie Room to write more right now. #dancingthroughthepandemic

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I Am Not A Robot

Yes, I am wearing a dabbin’ Santa Claus shirt in May. It is short-sleeved, at least. I opened the closet door, and it’s the first shirt my hand touched. I just wasn’t in the mood to make any kind of bigly wardrobe decision at the moment. Black sheep Tie o’ the Day was a no-brainer after I saw the shirt. This look is a bit matchy for me, but the red-and-white has a major Delta Rabbit vibe to it which dandies it up properly. In honor of high school Seniors o’ the Pandemic everywhere, check out my rabbit-y class ring which I somehow haven’t managed to lose despite my traipsing to and fro across the land, lo these many decades. I am not a robot. I am a Rabbit.

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Upon Reflection

As I’m continuing my reorganization of The Tie Room—including completing an extensive neckwear Census 2020—it occurs to me to introduce you to my “emergency” Tie/Bow Tie o’ the Day. I refer to them as my “in case” neckwear. I made them by simply covering two brave volunteers in reflective tape. These two live together in their own speshul briefcase, separated from any other neckwear hooligans. They are my frontline Tie/Bow Tie , for when I am going to be in dangerous situations and must be visible. So far, dangerous situations have amounted to the few times when I’ve been walking or biking in the dark. Neither of those things ordinarily happen. But just in case, these two stand ever-ready in their briefcase. Get it? 😜

FYI I feel like James Bond when I carry the tiny, ready-for-perilous-emergency briefcase.

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A Bone To Pick

It was a slight mistake to wear my painted-wood, bone-shaped Bow Tie o’ the Day to DICK’S MARKET on my masked-and-gloved grocery run this afternoon. You see, often when I wear a shiny piece of neckwear somewhere—especially if it’s a bow tie—some people turn into chimpanzees, and they feel compelled to reach out and touch said shiny neckwear. Even though it’s kinda weird when a stranger occasionally feels free to touch my bow tie, it’s not normally a potential health hazard. However, in our lovely Deseret, in our lovely COVID-19 spring, I’m both askeered and miffed that one shopper in the grocery store allowed themselves to be so overcome with bow tie love that he completely forgot we’re in the middle of a pandemic—and this other shopper automatically touched Bow Tie. Honestly, you’d think only I would fall into such mindless infatuation with a bow tie. I think it is in my best interest to wear a dull bow tie on my next grocery run—if I have a dull bow tie. I kinda doubt I own a dull anything.