Bow Tie o’ the Day and I simply could not believe what we saw on a shelf at DICK’S MARKET while we were there shopping over the weekend. (FYI I was not shopping for toilet paper, or water, or hand sanitizer.) When we saw this product, we were stunned to realize that we coulda been bazillionaires when we had the house in Delta. We coulda turned the tumbleweed ranch which was our yard and surrounding property into this wisp of a product. We could have marketed little poof balls of our own organically grown tumbleweeds! Instead, we just burned the poor things year-round for a couple of decades. Those weeds multiplied and replenished the earth of Millard County, including my own corner property, as if somebody was being paid a bounty for each new tumbleweed that sprouted forth out of the ground. All that money never came to pass, and all those tumbleweeds went up in smoke—making me a cold-blooded tumbleweed killer, and leaving me with no bigly fortune for all of my effort. Ah, the lost possibilities. Ah, the coins which coulda been a’jinglin’ in my pocket.
Okay. I think these really are the last photos from our Nashville vacay. It was our last day in N-ville and wood guitar Bow Tie o’ the Day was happy to be out and about in such a city. We had to work to find the Carl Van Vechten Gallery, at Fisk University. GPS let us down the first time we tried to find it. We followed it faithfully to the point when it told us we were 50 feet from the museum—which we clearly were not. We fiddled around with the GPS entry and discovered that in reality, the museum was 2.5 miles away.
We had been wanting to visit this museum before we even left for Nashville, cuz they reportedly have a phenomenal collection of Alfred Stieglitz’s (Georgia O’ Keefe’s hubby) photographs. And they do have such a collection. But I guess it had been on loan to another museum; and although it was now back, it was still crated up downstairs. We were bigly disappointed, but we went through the Terry Adkins exhibit which currently inhabited the Stieglitz photos’ space. Our verdict on the art we saw was “meh.”
You see me here playing around the art offerings. I don’t know what the “antlers” installation was all about, but I come from a huntin’ family, so if they look like antlers, they’re antlers and I’ll take a pic of me “wearing” them. As far as the record label piece of art, the label closest to my right ear is for a song named “Peg Leg Woman.” Sounds like a song which would amuse me to no end.
The timing for our Nashville vacation might have been off for our visit to see the Stieglitz art at the Carl Van Vechten Gallery, but our timing was spot-on for missing the Nashville tornadoes last week. My oldest sister, Mercedes/BT, worries that Suzanne and I somehow violently affect the weather of the places we choose to travel. We went to Nashville—BOOM!—deadly tornadoes right after we left. We went to Dauphin Island, Alabama almost two years ago—BOOM!—Tropical Storm Gordon came ashore a day before we arrived. Remember the rarely-happens, days-long, bigly dump snowstorm in Tucson last year? Yup, I guess that was our doing too, cuz we had a trip planned there for just days later.
I’d like to think I had enough power to alter the planet that much. But I wouldn’t waste such power on weather. Nah, I’d use my power to change things more along the lines of eliminating poverty, illiteracy, hunger, addiction, animal cruelty, and general hate.
Oh, and I’d plop down the Dallas Cowboys and the New York Yankees on their own private island with no technology or chance for rescue—where they would be never be heard from again. Ah, a perfect world. 😇
TIE O’ THE DAY is putting away the Nashville file, so these are the last photos from the trip I wanted to post.
First is a snapshot of me and one of the gryphon statues inside The Parthenon. We gave each other a high-5 of sorts.
Next, I present photos of more bottles of wine I didn’t buy. I find the wines’ outlaw-y names an interesting theme for marketing wine. It’s puzzling too, cuz I see this jail theme for hawking spirits mostly in the south, although not exclusively.
Next, I alert you to a restaurant called MERCHANTS for a meal and a shoeshine. I ate the most incredible sandwich there: a salmon BLT. If Suzanne were telling this, she would write about the waitress who was enamored with me and my bow tie and my backpack and my jacket and my being a writer… Well, you get the drift. And then Suzanne would tell you about how the waitress kept finding reasons to come to our table during our meal, and about how once it became clear to said waitress that Suzanne and I would be leaving the restaurant and Nashville together—no if’s, and’s, or but’s—the waitress who had fawned all over me from the minute we came in— well, she practically threw the receipt at me. And I had even given her a bigly tip. Suzanne would tell you all of that happened. But you won’t hear a word about all of that juicy news from me. I don’t write gossip! To me, it was smashing food, with just the teensiest hint o’ drama. I can’t promise you that your experience at MERCHANTS would be the same as mine if you went there, but if you want your ego boosted or somebody you’re eating with to get semi-jealous, it’s worth a shot. We did eat there a second time (different wait staff), and it was all yummy food; compliments on the Bow Tie o’ the Day; and zero drama. When the waiter at MERCHANTS leaves your check, they also leave a MERCHANTS postcard for you. My postcard came with a bow tie picture, of course.
And finally, I ran into a Jim Reeves record poster. (And if you don’t know Jim Reeves’ music, don’t you dare say you are a country music fan. He’s long dead, but he’s still relevant.) Jim Reeves’ song, “He’ll Have To Go” is Mom’s fave of his songs. All through my kidhood, she sang it when she was happy, and she sang it when she was sad. Even as kid, I could tell just by how she sang it what mood she was in. She’d be ironing or cooking or mopping, and she’d sing the first line—”Put your sweet lips a little closer to the phone”—and I immediately knew by her voice’s tension whether I should hide underneath the built-in bunkbeds for an hour or two, or whether it was a perfect time to ask for a new toy. If Mom were a poker player, how she sang that line would be her “tell.”
When Suzanne and I were waiting to get on our plane home from the Nashville airport, Bow Tie o’ the Day asked, “Did we bring Gary on our vacation?” I was pretty sure we hadn’t brought him, even though I knew Gary and my Sister Who Wishes To Remain Nameless would have enjoyed Nashville to no end.
I looked around our boarding gate area to see what Bow Tie was talking about, and I saw this flannel shirt guy apparently stretching his legs before boarding his next plane. He circled the terminal for about an hour, and every time he strolled close to us, he caught my eye. He dressed like Gary. Beard, glasses, hat—same. He even walked like Gary walks. Golly, he was Gary’s doppelgänger!
Whether airport guy was the good twin or the evil twin, I don’t know. Perhaps I should have asked him which twin he was. Gary’s always been a decent man to me and my family. Heck, he’s been a happy-to-fix-it hubby to me and Suzanne. I’m betting he’s the good twin. But now that I know for sure Gary has a doppelgänger, I’m keeping a sharper eye on him and his deeds—just in case he’s the bad seed.
Bow Tie o’ the Day wonders if we’ll ever run out of long-forgotten snapshots. We’re glad we keep finding them. I am particularly amazed I still run onto old pictures since most of my pre-1999 photos were kidnapped and taken to Texas with an ex, where they have lived for the last 20 years. I am currently in hostage negotiations to get them back, if they still even exist. They will be a treasure trove, for sure.
This is a yearbook photo from Delta Jr. High. Apparently, this is the 7th and 8th Grade Student Council from 1977. Seated, from left to right: Karen Dafoe, Lisa Hardy, Georgia Grayson, ME. Standing, from left to right, Gordon Jeffery, Joel Finlinson, Kipp Oppenheimer, Chris Brown, Richard Jacobson, Susan Redd, Wayne Dafoe.
I don’t remember actually doing anything in Jr. High Student Council, except meeting once a month and pretending we ran the school. We did learn how to conduct meetings, make motions, and second the motions made by others. It made us feel like we were important. Mostly, we had a good time being out of class for an hour. It was like sluffing, with permission.
We went to Nashville about 30 hours after we got home from Valentine’s dinner, so I put these photos aside until now. Rest assured, I will never NOT post about Valentine’s dinner. It’s what I do, so here it is.
Like last year, I chose to wear my candy, conversation hearts Bow Tie o’ the Day for the bigly event. It’s one of my jumbo-sized bow ties, which are especially fun to wear because no one can ignore them.
I was lucky to get Suzanne and I dinner reservations at CURRENT, in SLC. The minute we walked in the door, we were accosted by admirers of my cape and Bow Tie. I always like to give proper credit to Suzanne, as the cape maker of my smashing frocks, so I love for her to be around when I get cape compliments. It’s so much better than just telling her about the accolades I hear when I’m out alone in a cape. Sometimes when I relay a cape compliment I’ve received, I think she doesn’t believe me that her seamstress ability is as eye-catching and successful as I try to express. But she knows how to create a fine cape. If ya wanna cape made, Suzanne is definitely your man.
Once we were seated upstairs for our din-din, Suzanne promptly managed to order a bottle of wine that cost more than dinner. She’s always thoughtful enough to let me smell the adult beverages. I can vouch for the fact that expensive wine has an expensive smell. And the aroma will have to be enough for me.
I ordered an appetizer which was mostly a mystery to me—even after I ate it. I recognized most of the words on its menu description, and I knew from dining at CURRENT in the past that it would show up looking glorious on the plate in front of me. It would be pretty and safe—whatever it was. I can attest that my appetizer had pesto and butternut puree and grilled bread, among other things. It was yummy. Suzanne had the crab bisque, with puff pastry crackers.
You can guess Suzanne had the scallops, and I had the prime rib. Always guess that’s what we had for a fancy dinner, and you’ll be right more often than not.
We didn’t decline dessert, even though we were stuffed. Our desserts were extravagantly pretty too. Mine was called Persian Love Cake, and I can’t explain it except to say I know it was covered in pistachios and fig jam, and at some point I was eating rose petals as part of it. ‘Twas tasty. I was so focused on my own dessert that I didn’t really pay attention to what Suzanne had. It was some kind of chocolate torte. I think.
At some point during dinner, my cheeks got kissed. I’m telling you right now that I did not wash my cheeks that evening. I did not wash the kisses off my cheeks the entire next day either. I finally did wash the lipstick away before we went to the airport to fly to Nashville.
Bow Tie o’ the Day was witness to some bigly sights in Nashville. Even Bow Tie knows one of the best things about traveling to a place you don’t know much about is that you can be surprised by what you find there. This was our favorite thing-we-didn’t-know-was-in-Nashville-and-we’re-so-glad-it-exists.
As a younger soul, I was into Greek mythology, art, and architecture. I thought I’d have to go to Athens to catch what’s left of the Parthenon, and I hope I do someday. But this full-size replica of the complete Parthenon was breathtaking to behold. It houses an equally humongous statue of the goddess, Athena. Nashville considers itself the “Athens of the South”—a hotbed of learning, art, music, and literature. After visiting for a few days, I can see why.
I chose an ice cream bar Bow Tie o’ the Day for our first foray into downtown Nashville. We were touristing in the guts of the city, and I asked Suzanne if there was anything special she wanted to do while we were there. She wanted to go to the symphony.
There’s a plethora of music to be had in Nashville, as we all know. Leave it to Suzanne to have read something about the Nashville Symphony throwing Beethoven a birthday party when we were in town, by performing some of his works. So the first thing we did was score a couple of tickets for a symphonic performance later in the week. For the life of me, I don’t know what got into Suzanne because I can’t drag her to the symphony at home. But we set foot in Nashville for 15 seconds, and suddenly Suzanne was symphony-hungry.
For our evening at the Nashville Symphony, I donned a paw print Bow Tie o’ the Day. It seems I was missing Skitter beyond all reason that day. I knew darn well she was happy being spoiled with a week-long sleeping party at our house with Suzanne’s sister, Marjorie. Still, I missed her, and I knew she would have enjoyed the symphony. Skitter is a devoted listener to all kinds of music, and Beethoven is right up there on Skitter’s List O’ Astounding Composers—right up there with Philip Glass and Lawrence Welk.
We vacationed in Nashville for the express purpose of attending a LUMINEERS concert. Their tour schedule didn’t show any indications they would be playing in Salt Lake City, so we decided we’d head somewhere else they were playing. We figured we’d see them at their Nashville stop. Plans were made. Flights were scheduled. A car was rented.
And then… About two weeks before our trip, it was announced that the LUMINEERS would be playing in Salt Lake City in August. Were we upset we were about to spend a bunch o’ bucks on our trip to see them in Nashville, when we can see them here in a few months? Heck, no! It just means we can can see them twice.
Wood spectacles Bow Tie o’ the Day had a fantastic night checking out the concert. Seeing the LUMINEERS twice still won’t be enough for us.
I donned my wood guitar Bow Tie o’ the Day for our outing to Nashville’s Fisk University yesterday—our last stop before heading to the airport for our flight home to SLC last night.
I am sad to report that this is the last photo ever to be taken of me in my bow tie beanie. A heady tragedy happened soon after our foray at Fisk U. Somewhere at the Nashville airport, between dropping off the rental car and walking to the terminal, my hat went missing. Was it pilfered by a jealous criminal with a penchant for bow ties? Did it run away to join the bow tie circus? Did I carelessly drop it from my too full clutches? I dunno. I just know it’s gone for good, and I shall never wear it again. Because of that, I am in mourning. And I also wish my bow tie beanie well, as it begins its new life as an orphan in Tennessee.
