I got my Suzanne-sewn wintry cape out of the closet this morning. It will be my go-to cape through the Thanksgiving/Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa Season. At night, under the lights of the city, it sparkles and shimmers like a fabric gem—no matter which of its sides is showing. The snowy cape is a charming background to this morning’s seven seasonal Ties o’ the Day, with one Bow Tie o’ the Day on top. And thus, in my wintry cape and neckwear, I shall now harness Skitter for our walk to the mailboxes. What would our neighbors do without our daily spectacle?
When it’s raining, Suzanne and I don’t say, “It’s raining cats and dogs out there.” We usually declare it to be raining “bow ties and fabric.” Those worldly possessions are our True North directions. Even when we’re on vacation, if I get separated from Suzanne, I know to seek out the nearest fabric store. She will surely be there. When she sees me come through the fabric store door, she asks me what I think about each and every piece of fabric she’s dragging around the place. My answer is always the same, if not in the same words, “As long as it’s not hideous, it’s fine with me.” And when Suzanne loses me, she locates the nearest rack o’ bow ties—and there I am. She’ll ask if I found any bow ties for her to buy me. She is no fool. She knows better than to try to pick out a bow tie for me on her own. She might live in the same house as the Tie Room, but she can’t keep track of the neckwear inventory I already have. She generously buys and gives me neckwear on occasion, but only after I have picked it out.
Bow Tie o’ the Day has some fancy gold shimmer going on, as does the holly Tie o’ the Day. Other than that, we have some snowmen, some Santa’s, and some festively dressed Scottie dogs adorning our Ties o’ the Day. Lastly, our centerpiece Tie o’ the Day is a rendition of what might be happening this very second up at the North Pole: reindeer auditions. The tie’s falling, failing reindeer looks like it could be our very own Skitter. However, I know for a fact Skitter’s not out of town, trying out for anything. Why? She just received a bigly package of X-mas ties for herself to wear during the upcoming holidays, and she has an unusually close relationship with her ties—much like I do. We don’t just up and leave our neckwear to fend for itself on a seasonal whim. I have the heavily populated Tie Room to oversee, and Skitter has the Tie Crate to care for. Yes, one of her crates is dedicated to her ties and bow ties. I’m so proud of her. She’s a chip off the old neckwear knot.
I chose to go with a Santa hat theme this morning, for two Bow Ties o’ the Day and four Ties o’ the Day. One bow tie gives us Jerry Garcia, while the other gives us Billy Bob Thornton as Bad Santa. The green tie displays regular old Santa himself. The blue tie presents whales decked out in their Santa hattery, while the black tie under it showcases Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas. Front and center, as Santa-hatted as the rest of our characters, is the infamous emoji poop, offering us all “Warm Wishes.” Ewww. I mean—Season’s Greetings a bit early, y’all!
Major Award Bow Tie o’ the Day—in conjunction with a weird piece of wood I once found, and just can’t part with—is here with a Major Announcement: The wearin’ o’ the holiday neckwear begins now! Between now and the new year, I will attempt to wear every holiday tie and bow tie in my collection. Wish me luck, folks.🎄
I’m enthralled with all the twists and speed bumps of elections. Skitter and I have been flipping through channels, following the melodrama of vote-counting from oodles of different political bents. We, here at TIE O’ THE DAY, are remaining relatively calm and patient, confident that the United States of America will survive intact—no matter who ends up driving the bigly bus. I am confident of it because it is we, the people, who are the country.
Besides, waiting a few days for election results is a cinch. In 2000, Grandma Anderson was living at the Sands. She was 91. She had fallen there one day, breaking both a hip and a shoulder. When she was released from the hospital a few weeks after her tumble, she returned to her little apartment in the Sands, but she needed constant care. She was waiting for a spot to open up for her in the care center, where she could have 24-hour, trained care for the rest of her life. But until the care center had room for her, someone from the family was always on duty in her apartment to tend to her needs. I stayed with her most nights.The Gore/Bush election took place that November. A few days after the election, Grandma began asking me who our new president was. I explained that Gore got the most votes, but Bush was most likely going to be the President. Try explaining the Electoral College and “hanging chads” to your grandma when she’s 91. And soon I had to explain why the Supreme Court was involved in the decision, and so on.
Every night, I’d go to Grandma’s for our sleeping party so I could be there if she needed something. Usually, she just needed a bowl of Cheetos. Every morning, almost the first question out of Grandma was, “Do we have a President yet?” And every evening when I showed up for our sleepover, her question was, “Do we have a president yet?” That went on for oh-so-many mornings and evenings. I was getting a bit irritated with the question, as well as with the whole president-in-limbo thing.
Weeks after the 2000 election, on December 12, when I showed up for my “Grandma shift,” I burst through the door and said, “Grandma, don’t even ask! We finally have a president!” When she asked who it was, I said, “The Supreme Court says it’s George Bush.” She thought about it a minute, then said, “Didn’t we have one of those already?” My thoughts exactly. So I had to do some more explaining to Grandma Anderson. I loved her so.
FYI I took this selfie at my hearing aid appointment this morning. Diagnosis: I can’t hear anything I don’t want to hear. 😉
Constitution Face Mask o’ the Day and starry, stripey Bow Tie o’ the Day will be watching election results with me throughout the evening, because Suzanne is working late—and I cannot watch scary things when I’m alone.🤡 (Skitter is too scared to watch at all.)
One of my three minors in college at Weber State was Political Science. I’ve always been drawn to understanding how government works, and how it can work better for citizens. I briefly toyed with the idea of becoming a political speechwriter back when I was a young whippersnapper. But, even waaaay back then, I knew that when bigly money is involved, respectable politicians are few-and-far-between, and I did not want to take the chance of having to spend my time writing lofty, lying speeches for slickster candidates to spew forth into a microphone. Nope. Political speechwriting wasn’t my true calling. Instead, I was called to do something else. I still don’t know exactly what that “something else” is yet. The older I get, the less I know. Knowing that I know less—that’s called wisdom. And it’s my wisdom that made sure I voted in the 2020 General Election long before any and all voting deadlines.
See ya on the flip-side of the bigly VOTE, my pals!
If ever a day requires a cape, Election Day is surely such a day. As Americans, we have the amazing gift of being able to vote for what we want our future to look like. In my opinion, too many eligible voters don’t utilize this mighty little superpower. Voting is a right, and every right carries with it a bigly thing called responsibility. It is my personal pet peeve that people are so quick to yap about others encroaching on their rights, but then conveniently ignore their own responsibilities for being knowledgeable and civil.
If you’ve already voted, you have my thanks. If you haven’t already voted, please do. It’s your right as an American citizen. It is also your responsibility as an American citizen. If you feel like your vote doesn’t count, you’re only right about that if you don’t vote. See how that works? If you vote, your vote is counted; therefore, you count. You’re a part of shaping this country’s future. Sounds cheesy, I know, but I’m not wrong. Don’t stand on your country’s sidelines. You aren’t being asked to die for your country today. You’re simply being asked to use a dark pen to fill-in some bubbles on a sheet of paper.
Finally, in the midst of this election’s overly contentious, uncivil, hullabaloo, please remember to be kind to those who don’t cast their votes for your candidates. Please don’t belittle, bully, or injure another citizen in an attempt to make them vote differently than their own conscience demands. And don’t try to keep others from casting their votes. If you see any of those things happening, it is your duty as an American citizen to step in and stop it. All of that behavior is childish, unnecessary, and just plain bad manners. And I cannot believe that in 2020, some of my beloved country’s grownups still have to be reminded to be nice and play fair with their citizen-neighbors.
Bow Tie o’ the Day and I thought it was a no-brainer. I woke up Halloween morning with a gruesome, icky zit on my chin, so I decided it could be my costume: I would be a teenager for the festivities. Zit + attitude = teenager! Easiest. Costume. Ever.
The pandemic Halloween around our house began ominously. When I turned on the tv to the morning news, reports of Sean Connery’s death were rampant. That meant the pictures of Sean Connery were also rampant. Since he and Dad were doppelgängers, the pix of Sir Sean Connery kept reminding me of Dad, which made me extra-miss him.
On top of sprouting a zit and missing Dad all day, we had a grand total of 1 Trick-or-Treater knock. By the time I put on my mask and gloves and grabbed the candy dish, the poor ghoul was already gone when I finally opened the front door. I was glad when Halloween was over. Fortunately, there’s plenty of candy left over for me to munch on. The zit continues to be an unwelcome guest.
Bow Tie o’ the Day loves word-play as much as I do. We tend to create clever, silly costumery instead of scary outfits. When our troops were knee-deep in Iraq in the 2000’s, I wore this costume for a Halloween or two. The phrase “The War in Iraq” was omni-present on tv and radio then. To create this party get-up, I simply morphed that phrase into THE WAR IN MY RACK costume. (Note: This is not any kind of political commentary, although my heart is always with our troops.)
BTW Ancient birthday salutations on this 30th of October to my niece, Mimi Tucker, who is my Mini-me—my doppelgänger. You’re yet another tough ol’ Wright broad, following a famous/infamous tradition. We love yer feisty, funny guts, Amanda Jo!
