The Tie Room has a few bow tie residents whose bow materials are somewhat irregular, relative to “normal” fabric bow ties. Each one of these three particular Bow Ties o’ Today is singular unto itself. Each is an orphan in my collection, in the sense that each is only one of its “kind.” In the Census, these lone-wolf specimen will be recorded thus: 1 button-attach, purple, 3D-printed bow tie. 1 hand-painted, camouflage-pattern, porcelain bow tie. 1 bike tire inner tube (complete with air stem and puncture patch) bow tie. What they lack in numbers, they make up for in panache.
BTW Every time I write or say the fabulicious word “panache,” it makes me think of pinoche made by Mom. And then I think of playing pinochle. And I mean EVERY time, for the last 50 years! Yup, that’s how my head works.
This month’s issue of VOGUE magazine braved its way through the pandemic and all the way into my mailbox, and it was just in time. I’ve been fretting all week about updating my summer wardrobe. I’ve been in dire need of a breezy, light summer dress. And BOOM! Here it is. Bow Tie o’ the Day and I can now quit worrying about our ability to keep up with the summer fashion Jones’s.
Poor mini Bow Tie o’ the Day has to pose with my Sophomore yearbook photo, which just happens to highlight two of my worst features: bad hair and bad teeth. This is the most curl my hair ever held. My hair just wants to be straight. (Insert your own jokes here.) I’ve since handled my hair mostly by going with short cuts, in which the cut itself is the star.
The true culprit I hate in the picture is the sorry state of my teeth. I come from a long line of genetically bad teeth, so there was really not much I could do to keep my teeth white and shiny for the world to see. They were also prone to chipping. I chipped a tooth on a Rice Krispies square once. Oh, and by the way, my teeth hurt like you wouldn’t believe—all of them, all at once, down into the roots.
Like any teenager, I was self-conscious about every part of my body. Thanks to my teeth, I regularly got to hear not-so-nice comments about my hideous choppers. I didn’t really belong to a particular group in high school. I flitted and floated from one crew to another. I got along with just about everybody, which meant the cutting comments I heard about my teeth were coming from people I considered to be my friends.
Never smiling was not an option for me. Have you met me? I’m a smiler. Since those few who hassled me had their own imperfections, I could’ve thrown stinging comments back at them with the added jab of using vocabulary the dastardly hasslers would have to find a dictionary to look up. But I knew them and their families, and it wasn’t my style to handle things that way. I just kept on doing my own cheery thing. Besides, they were my friends. They were rude and stoopid friends, but still… I knew—or at least hoped—they’d grow out of it. Some did. Some didn’t. If you were ever a teenager, I’m sure you know what I mean, because every teenager gets teased about something. The sting goes deep, but it can make you a better person if you let it.
I knew I’d grow out of my teeth because soon my mouth would be mature enough for me to get caps, which I did just a few months after this pic was taken. Caps would be only a temporary and cosmetic solution, though, because they wouldn’t solve the tooth pain. Nope, I knew I was inevitably headed down the happy trail to dentures at a very early age, after my mouth matured for good.
While most teenagers can’t wait to be old enough to move out of their parents’ house, or go away to college, or get a real job, or go on a mission, I was twiddling my thumbs and killing time waiting for my mouth to be old enough to get all my teeth yanked out to make room for a set of white-toothed, painless dentures. I got my wish when I was in college and almost 19.
BTW Even though it’s been nearly 40 years since I heard the last of those hurtful comments, you’ve probably noticed I don’t show my teeth when I take selfies. Without even thinking about it, I still carry the stoopid past comments about my stoopid teeth despite having perfectly formed dentures. Closed-mouth smiles are just a habit of mine from way back.
TIE O’ THE DAY is honored to introduce Bow Tie o’ the Day-wearin’ Daisy Corona Debenham. Daisy is Lollie Lyman Debenham’s newest member of the family. Brinkley’s passing was a hard pill to swallow for Lollie and her family, but Daisy looks to me like she’s up to the job of restoring dog joy throughout the Debenham home and family. Daisy is a lucky pup to have them as her people.
For those of you tblog readers who don’t know Lollie, let me assure you she’s a gem. The word “scamp” comes to mind, so she’s a fellow scamp to me. She is also a fellow Delta Rabbit. We were in elementary school when I learned Lollie was named after her mother, like I was named after mine. Lollie was the only other girl I knew who was named thus. But we were never called by our mothers’ names. I was always mystified by that. I was never called Helen, and she was never called Laura. Trust me—Helen Sr. and Laura Sr. were incredibly strong, gifted women. I wear Mom’s name with pride and reverence, and I think Laura Joy does the same.
Another kidhood thing I remember about Lollie has to do with a birthday gift she gave me. A herd of kids came to my birthday party at my house. I’m guessing I had turned 6 or 7. There were a million kids, and I got a million presents. I’m sure all the gifts were fun and appropriate and probably girly. However, I can remember only the present I got from Lollie. It was a plastic turtle. And it wasn’t even wrapped. Oh, how I loved that turtle. I played with it in the canal and out at the reservoir. I tied a rope around its neck and “walked” it up and down the sidewalk on my block. Once, when a bunch of us wanted to play football and I couldn’t find our football, the turtle stood in. To heck with pigskin—we used plastic turtleskin to play our football game. I have no doubt it substituted for many types of balls, since we had a neighbor who made it her job to pilfer any unaccompanied ball she saw anywhere on our block. I’m certain I named my turtle, but I don’t recall its name. It was a darn groovy birthday gift. Thanks, Laura Joy.
Anyhoo… I told Lollie TIE O’ THE DAY would make Daisy a bigly star. So let it be written, so let it be done.
I’m not out-and-about often these days, but when I am, I check out the pandemic signage. I wasn’t able to get a picture of my fave COVID-19-related sign cuz I was driving to an appointment. The sign was at TWISTED SUGAR in Centerville about three weeks ago, and it said they were giving away a free roll of toilet paper if you bought a dozen cookies. I decided to buy a dozen and get my roll of free toilet paper immediately after my appointment, just to say I did it. And I was going to snap a photo of TWISTED SUGAR’s sign, of course. By the time I got back to the cookie store about an hour later, the sign was already down. Apparently, they had sold out of cookies and tp. I was more upset about not getting the picture of the sign than not getting cookies and a free roll of toilet paper. I always have plenty of both of those things at home. But I was disappointed I couldn’t post a picture of the sign for y’all to see.
Anyhoo… Here are a couple of signs which painted wood Bow Tie o’ the Day and I came across near home as we committed errands today. We thought you’d appreciate them. Sorry, there’s no toilet paper involved in either one. Maybe next time.
My face—behind my face mask—when I saw this Tie/Bow Tie o’ the Day Sharpie in the store yesterday. Must. Buy. Them. All.
FYI The face you see in the photo was performed by the always gleeful Gracie, and was caused by Bishop Travis’ proud-father choreography. I assume Bishopette Collette was in charge of snapping shots.
Here’s the TRIANGLE—aka DHS yearbook—staff from 1979. I remember feeling like a real rebel rabbit standing on seats in the auditorium for this shot to be captured. I have no explanation for my weird, hippy pose. I look like I’m about to draw my gun in a gunfight. Fortunately for us all, Bow Tie o’ the Day covers up a lot.
My Hogwarts School Bowtie o’ the Day and I cannot recall exactly what this fetching Delta High School gaggle o’ gals was up to. For this late 70’s yearbook picture, we were standing on the old DHS gym floor, while the photographer snapped us from the second floor. I have a vague memory of a DHS Rabbit “pep” organization called the Del-Teens, and I think that might be what this photo is capturing. Got some time to kill while hiding in your own home from COVID-19? Get off your isolating, social-distancing butt, and get out yer bigly Sherlock Holmes magnifying glass. Go forth, my Delta Rabbit pals, and see if you can name every dame pictured here.
Bow Tie o’ the Day presents this yearbook photo from 1979—for the grand purpose of making people chuckle at my white bell-bottoms. Inducing laughter is about the best thing that bell-bottoms can do. They aren’t sexy. They effortlessly get caught in bike chains. They aren’t practical. But they consistently evoke laughter. I have no idea what made us think they looked spiffy back in the 70’s. Bad fashion trends can creep up on even the most stylish of us. Thank the heavens most of us wise up to crappy fashions sooner, rather than later. This photo is proof, however, that even someone as style-conscious as I am can be duped into attempting to wear clothing that is oh-so regrettable. Seriously, my white bell-bottom pant-legs are wide enough to be used as sails on a bigly sailboat.
BTW This photo of the Freshman class officers was taken on Delta’s infamous Main Street—in front of the long-gone movie theatre (across from Curley’s, to the south). I was the class president. The rest of the class officers: Tauna Louder, Brenda Lowder, and Janet Eliason.
Also housed in the theatre building was The Burger Box and The Spaghetti Place(?). I also seem to remember a gathering room where kids could play pool, air hockey, foosball, pinball, and similar games downstairs in the same building; but I can’t remember what that establishment was called. Note the marquee advertisement for the Desert Drive-In, which was located west of the overpass. All of the businesses I listed here were owned and run by the Jack and Irene Grayson family.
Unfortunately for all who saw me in those days, I probably often wore my white bell-bottoms when I patronized these places of business.🤡
To create this photo, all I needed was a Bow Tie o’ the Day and a magnifying glass. I’ve got a froggy, toady vibe going on according to this picture’s essence. Although this is normal dinkin’ around for me, I know it’s odd for most people to engage in such fare. In light of our current excessive isolation, what weirdly amusing activities have you caught yourself doing that you wouldn’t ordinarily do?
