Breast Cancer Awareness Month pink Tie o’ the Day assists me in presenting my SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION pose. If you don’t get that reference, you should give the movie a gander. It’s a marvel. It’s one of a handful of movies I am compelled to light on when I’m channel-surfing and come across it. SILENCE OF THE LAMBS is another one. STEEL MAGNOLIAS is like that for me too. Oh, and TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD and THE BIG CHILL. And FARGO. And A RIVER RUNS THROUGH IT. And PICNIC. And ROPE. And any John Hughes film. And…….. 🎥🎞📽🍿
Bow Ties o’ the Day remind us that bow ties can be worn a variety of ways. Here, our model (yours truly) shows that bow ties can be donned as ankle bracelets. Note the pink polka dots and pink flamingos. And it helps to wear pink socks, especially in Breast Cancer Awareness month. No, I don’t have another pair just like these somewhere. This pair is the result of the mystery of socks disappearing in the dryer. Where do they go? Maybe good socks go to Heaven. 👣
Glow-in-the-dark, spiderweb Bow Tie o’ the Day and I are patiently waiting in my truck for Suzanne to buy all the dirt Home Depot sells. I was ready to go in to the store with her, but I ended up not feeling like making the effort. As I sort of mentioned in this morning’s post, I woke up on the wrong side of bipolar today. In case you’re wondering which side—manic or depressed—is the wrong side, I can cloud things up for you about my bipolarity by saying BOTH and NEITHER. Suffice it to say I’m feeling colicky in my brain.
Hey, boys and girls! I’m feeling a bit out of bipolar sorts this morning, so my racing brain is struggling to write any kind of sensical post for pink Bow Tie o’ the Day. However, I want to re-re-re-remind you gals to do your breasticle self-exams and/or get your mammograms. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for all the people who adore you. Guys, encourage the women in your life to do their self-exams, and to schedule regular mammograms.
I’m Helen E. Wright, and I approved this pestering ad.
Plaid pink Bow Tie o’ the Day—on behalf of all our pink Ties/Bow Ties o’ the Day—are here to remind you women once again to do your breast exams. Heck, go get a mammogram. We know dang well some of you haven’t had a mammogram for far too long, if at all. The ties/bow ties in my collection don’t mean this in a weird way, but….they love your breasticles, and they want them to be healthy. Obey this health admonishment of Ties/Bow Ties o’ the Day: Get your boobs checked, ladies!
As I’m sure y’all know, October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Tie o’ the Day has a serious message for women: This month especially, please donate to breast cancer research and do your breast exams! Better yet, have your spouse/partner/significant other/etc. do your breast exam. They probably know your breasts better than you do anyway. Just sayin’. 😉
The Tucker Boys, R-L: Dale, Don, Tom, Kent, RandyThe Tuckers o’ Pleasant View. Back row: Don, Randy, Kent, Dale. Front row: Jerilyn, Phyllis, George, Tom.
Yesterday, TIE O’ THE DAY tipped its cap to my sister BT’s son on his birthday. Today, we pay a brief tribute to BT’s late brother-in-law, Don, who would have been 71 today. Don passed away two years ago—suddenly, and far too soon.
When BT married Kent Tucker in 1967, she gained Don as a brother-in-law. When Don got married a few months later, BT gained Karla. The four of them have always been dear friends. I must add this: From my perspective, it seems like “Don-and-Karla” has always been one word. I can’t remember a time, until Don died, that I ever said one name without the other. To speak of one, was to speak of both. They were a team. A comedy team, at that.
When my ex and I moved from Salt Lake City, sight unseen, to Arlington, VA in the early 90’s, it was Don-and-Karla who picked us up from the airport. (They had been living in the area for a number of years, where Don worked for the IRS and Karla was a pediatric ICU nurse.) It was late in the evening when our plane landed, and Don-and-Karla drove us and our luggage to the apartment we had rented quickly, and without ever seeing. The apartment was a hazard, and it seemed to me that Don-and-Karla tried to hide their instinct to run. We had a lease, and we’d have to make it work until we could figure out our next step. As Don-and-Karla left my ex and I in our new hovel, I’m sure they were more than a bit worried for us. They invited us to spend Thanksgiving with them that year, probably just to see if we were surviving our flea-infested, stinky living quarters.
About two years later, BT was accepted into a Master’s degree program at George Washington University, in Washington, D.C.. Rather than commute from Pleasant View, UT to class in D.C. every day, BT needed to move to the D.C.-area for a year. Don-and-Karla opened up their house, inviting Betty, Kent, and their youngest kid to live with them for the duration of BT’s Master’s program. A more generous couple, I have never met.
Don was a booming presence in a room. I cannot imagine Karla without him. Their house must be so very quiet now. I hope their kids and grandkids keep Karla’s world loud and laughing. Don would want that for her. And I’m sure they do: They were raised that way, by Don-and-Karla.
My dreamy nephew, Brandon Tucker, turned 50 today. He was born to my oldest sister, Mercedes, and her hubby, Nuk, way back in 1970. You know—way back before time and dirt even existed.
When I was in college at Weber State in the 80’s, I lived with the Tucker’s a couple of times. I saw Brandon and his siblings be kids, up-close and loud. I remember Brandon often going outside to practice sports. He practiced football by practicing spiking the ball and choreographing end zone dances. He practiced running by practicing breaking the ribbon at the finish line. How could I not admire his fervor for winning?! He was dedicated to being triumphant, no matter his chosen sport. Now, he’s a Yankees fan and a Patriots fan, but I have learned to forgive him for that.
Around three years ago, Brandon’s right foot had to be amputated. Since that time, I think of him as my own personal peg-leg pirate. Losing his foot did not stop him from playing golf, as one of these photos shows. Another photo shows his flip-flop foot. And, so importantly, yet another photo shows Brandon with his granddaughter, Jolee, who graces us with her head Bow Tie o’ the Day.
We believe art is important to the vibe of a home as well as to our souls. When we’ve traveled to any new destination, art museums have often ended up being our fave sights there. For our home’s above-the-sofa art, Suzanne chose a print of Gustav Klimt’s “The Kiss.” Cool-a-rama. I’ve had my Klimt-inspired Bow Tie o’ the Day for a couple of years, but Skitter only recently acquired her own Klimt-esque Tie o’ the Day. She wanted to show it off to y’all, and I caught her in mid-yawn.
[I know, I know. This is the third time I’m re-posting this jewel. After I posted a photo of some of my flannel wardrobe yesterday, I got a few requests to put up “the flannelrama post” again. It is my pleasure to oblige.]
I have looked out at the Atlantic Ocean, from a castle turret on a hill on the west coast of Ireland. I have driven down Main Street in Delta, UT with a wind-blown tumbleweed the size of a Christmas tree stuck in the front grill of my car. I have mooned. I have streaked. I have sat naked in a lawn chair at a nude beach in Rehoboth, Delaware. I have canoed on the Potomac River while eating sushi.
In honor of the craziness of the Delta Fourth of July chairs-on-main-street-for-days custom, I have set up lawn chairs—and tied them together—on the side of the road in front of my Delta house, to create a fake 4th of July parade route, complete with horse poop and saltwater taffy scattered in the road. And Mom and I have sat in those lawn chairs, waiting for the parade that never came—just so people could see us and wonder. (And a parade did come by once. Story to be told later.)
I have drunk shots of pepper vodka on a picnic blanket, at an Allison Krauss concert, on the grass in front of the Washington Monument. I have driven in the West Desert for hours at night, with my headlights off, while listening to music no one’s ever heard of. I have been trapped in a stuck elevator. I have played arcade games along the Jersey Shore. I have been to Six Flags amusement parks in three different states. I have returned a lost wallet.
I have taught every type of writing class they offer at The University of Utah and at Salt Lake Community College. I have led book groups for inmates at the Utah State Prison. I have taught writing in a middle school in inner-city Baltimore. I have twice run the Georgetown 10K in Washington, D.C. while drunk. I have seen Dad catch fish bare-handed. I have spent 24 hours in Boston, and I saw everything there was to see. I have seen over 100 concerts in my life. I have ice skated all the way across the Reservoir and back. I have had 2/3 of my pancreas hacked away. I have seen a jackalope and a chupacabra in the same night.
But the one thing I have not experienced until now is an event called FLANNELRAMA at JOANN.
Bow Tie o’ the Day and I have now seen and done everything. 😜
