Day: August 22, 2022

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My Neck Has Disappeared Behind The Camo

Wow! The same camo Bow Tie o’ the Day, posted twice in one week. This old post is from August 2019. Good anecdotes—and bow ties— can always be repeated. Please read it with joy, as always. 🌵 👔 💻

SOUNDS CRAZY, I KNOW

Camo Bow Tie o’ the Day is one of my faves. Its size is referred to by Beau Ties Ltd. of Vermont as “butterfly jumbo.” Here, I am waiting in line at DICK’S Pharmacy. Of course, as a fashion maven, I know my cactus-print shirt needs to be ironed, especially down the front. Suzanne is as picky about ironing as Mom and Peggy always were. That’s one of the Top 10 reasons they’ve always liked Suzanne. Those three gals were born to be Wrinkle Whisperers. All Suzanne will see when she looks at this photo is the bigly wrinkle by the buttons. I didn’t iron my shirt, but on purpose.

Okay, so I’m in a minor snit at Suzanne today, and knowing how she feels about pressed shirts and ironing, I know this wrinkle biz will get under her skin mightily. It will bug her. That’s my goal. This is how I’m being passive-aggressive in a way that is tiny, but irritating enough to get her attention. She’ll know exactly what I’m up to when she sees this photo’s shirt needs pressing, then she’ll think about what she could have done which might possibly be upsetting me. She’s smart, so she’ll figure it out and fix the wrong. I will then notice she fixed the problem, and I’ll say, “Hey, will you please iron a couple of shirts for me?” That will signal to her that she’s forgiven, and all’s right with us. The whole routine saves us a squabble over some crumb of an issue that amounts to nothing, without either of us ever having to bring up the real topic.

Weird? Yes. It’s a kind of shorthand that lets us both save face. If you’ve been attached to someone for a long period of time, you know darn well you do similar dances with each other about certain things. The dance’s strange footwork is part of what helps you stay with your person long-term. You have to choreograph your own “happy family” groove. Sometimes you both have to just pipe down and dance a jig together no one else in the galaxy could possibly understand.

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The Past Is A Useful Barometer

Here at TIE O’ THE DAY, we recommend a reasonable amount of looking back on one’s life. One should occasionally revisit where one has been, if only to appreciate the fineness of where one is now. The important thing to remember while engaging in the act of looking back on one’s past is that it’s a nice place to visit, but nobody can live there. 🍺🍾🍷🥃🍸🍹

Here’s a re-post from 2018, about just that kind of thing:

IT WAS FUN, THEN IT WAS NOT FUN

Hey, Bow Tie o’ the Day’s wearing its neon green animal print for our dinkin’-around afternoon. We played around with the mirror and the camera for a few minutes, and we snapped this blurred shot.

Have you ever had a day when you felt a touch blurry? I occasionally feel blurry. And raggedy. And generally out of focus in the details. Those days happen because we’re tired, or upset, or confused, or have too many bills to pay—you name it. Blurry days are normal. It’s a human being thing.

Back in the day, when I drank, I felt blurry more often than not. I’d like to be able to say I hated the buzzy beer blur, but I was smitten with the feeling. I liked it waaaay too much, though. I finally figured out that my life—like anyone’s life—wasn’t all about me. What I did affected the people around me more than I realized. I had no idea how blurry I was to the people who seemed to care for me. I’m lucky I had enough awareness to do what I needed to do, so I wouldn’t lose Suzanne and other people who gave a damn about me.

Don’t misunderstand me. I enjoyed my time with a near-constant beer in my hand. Pub-hopping all across Ireland. Lots of get-togethers with friends in backyards. Hangin’ at beaches along the Atlantic Ocean. 4th of July fireworks on The Mall in front of the U.S. Capitol. Sittin’ on porches. Canoeing on the Potomac River. Picnics all over creation. And always a cooler full of brewskis nearby. Even now, if you name a brand of beer, I can remember the precise taste of that particular brew. And I tell you honestly that I cannot barbecue as skillfully without a beer in my hand. A can of Diet Coke doesn’t have the same heft or magic to it.

At some point in my life, it was clearly time to dissolve my relationship with beer, no matter how much I liked it. (I miss no other version of alcohol.) After I knew I needed to choose a new beverage, it took me a couple of years to get completely sober. But I finally managed to do it. I don’t regret picking up my first beer, and I don’t regret putting down my last one. I’ve found that it’s impossible to completely regret doing things that taught you bigly lessons—lessons that make you a better person. At least, that’s how it’s always worked for me.