Category: Bow Ties

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Grace Anne Is A Cougar. I Am Not.

I’m sporting UTE Bow Tie o’ the Day for the second time this week. BYU Tie o’ the Day is all for Gracie. It’s not her fault she’s a Cougar. Bishop Travis and Bishopette Collette are responsible for her Cougar-osity, as it should be. GO, UTES!

I am a Delta Rabbit. I’m also a Weber State Wildcat. I am even a University of Maryland (BC) Labrador. But I actually consider myself to be, first and foremost, a UTE. Back in the olden days, I studied and taught at the University of Utah for a few years while I was in Graduate School.

I never attended BYU, although when I was in high school, I did take a week-long BYU-sponsored writing workshop somewhere in some mountains near Provo, and it was taught by two BYU professors. Even though I was named Best Poet at the workshop, I did not turn into a Cougar. I generally root for the Cougars if they’re not playing against the U. It doesn’t kill me to switch sides. A rivalry does not mean you have to “hate” the other team, but it helps to do so at times. Fantastic pranks have been born of “rivalry hate.”

Certainly, if you’re betting actual money on any rivalry game, bet with your head. Bet on the best team, even if you’ll be betting against the team you love. You don’t have to tell everybody you bet against your heart’s team, and you can still wear your true team’s fan garb as you cheer your lungs out for them– losers though they might be, some years. With your secret winnings– from betting against your loser team– treat your pals from both sides of the rivalry to post-game ice cream and pizza. Nobody will care how you got the money.

GO, UTES!

FYI If you’re hanging onto your naive notion that Cougar fans don’t commit the sin of betting (money or otherwise), please take the opportunity right now to return to reality. It’ll be so nice to see you again when you get back.

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The Most Wonderful Day O’ The Year

It’s National Bow Tie Day, and you know my bow tie choices are seemingly endless. I started out with a clever bow tie-covered Ascot o’ the Day, then I switched to a bow tie-covered infinity scarf. From that look, I sort of morphed into a Bow Tie o’ the Day decked out in bow ties– with matching pocket square, and a bow tied baseball cap. Later in the day, I turned up in a bow tied t-shirt and hat, topped off by a well placed wood mustache Bow Tie o’ the Day. (All the bow tie stuff hails from BEAU TIES LTD. of Vermont, except the mustache bow tie.)

Skitter grudgingly humored me by wearing the bow tie Hairband o’ the Day. She didn’t like it one bit though, and she’s usually fine about joining in my bow tie games. I hope she’s not sick. Or sick of me.

The “Kiss Citrus” bow tie you see here is the gift Suzanne gave me for National Bow Tie Day. She has no idea she got me a gift. Well, I guess she knows she got me one now.

Who the heck do I think I’m kidding?! Every August 28 is National Bow Tie Day, that’s a fact. But from where I sit, every day of the year is an exciting bow tie holiday to me. I have a tough time sleeping every night because of all the anticipation I feel about being able to wear a bow tie the next day. It’s like I live a speshul National Bow Tie Day Entire Life. I cannot complain one iota.

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National Bow Tie Day Eve Strikes Again

Bow Tie o’ the Day and I have been gussying up the house for tomorrow’s bigly holiday: National Bow Tie Day. And we’re simultaneously getting in some much needed exercise. It’s a good thing VOGUE magazine showed up this month to clue me into wearing a fashionable puffy coat and frilly skirt, as well as to illustrate how to vacuum the house and bounce around on the mini- trampoline at the very same time.

It’s serendipitous that we even receive VOGUE and all of its relevant information in our non-vogue lives. It’s one of two magazines we’ve regularly received for years without ever subscribing to them. They are aren’t gift subs from anybody, and I can’t get the subscriptions canceled either. We just seem to have found ourselves on some elite list somewhere with the snooty people who get free things just cuz somebody put them on the snooty list for swag. I’m thinking TIE O’ THE DAY is simply that hip and that famous. It’s my ticket to the bigly time.

I wish VOGUE magazine had some effective trick to help me fall asleep later tonight, on this most exciting night of the year. As it is, I’ll do what I always do on National Bow Tie Day Eve, which is to crawl under my sock monkey blankets and count bow ties– like counting sheep– until my eyes can no longer stay open. It won’t put me to sleep, but it will give me a head-start on tomorrow’s National Bow Tie Day festivities.

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A Noble Attempt Was A Funky Failure

Tie o’ the Day is not only blinding, it’s found nowhere on the planet but in The Tie Room. This green and lavender tie is an original, one-of-a-kind crochet design by Suzanne. She did not come up with the idea to crochet me some ties: I begged her to do it for me, and she crocheted me two. I told her, however, to be done with the assignment, after she had crocheted the second– equally maladjusted– tie. The final products left everything to be desired, which was not Suzanne’s fault. Ties just should not be crocheted.

Suzanne told me right at the beginning of the endeavor that it wouldn’t really work, and I knew it wouldn’t. But Suzanne is so cute when her craft-for-Helen face comes over her. I make sure to convince her to craft for my purposes whenever I can think of a project I happen to want made. She’s a bigly sport about my whims. And I will love the two ugly, Suzanne-crocheted ties forever. But I don’t think even I could love a third one.

Speaking of my whims, Wednesday, August 28th, is National Bow Tie Day. I didn’t start it, but you can darn well bet I celebrate it. I wonder what Skitter is planning to wear for the occasion. Gather your bow ties, people.

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But They Still Work: PART TWO

Converse-style shoes Bow Tie o’ the Day is here with me as I make my confession. These were Mom’s reading glasses about a decade ago, and they and the CHRONICLE made me into a thief. I literally stole them from Mom. I didn’t steal them because I needed them. I stole them because she needed to NOT own them anymore.

Mom and I were drinkin’ on my Delta porch, and you know how that gets raucous. A little caffeine in our systems, and we are out of control with the laughter. Suddenly, Mom squealed, “It’s CHRONICLE day!” That was my cue to head to Jubilee to retrieve a copy of that weekly treasure. When I got back to the porch, I handed the paper to Mom. She immediately reached into her duster pocket, where– amid the tissues, rollers, and Tums– she found her reading glasses. To be more precise, she found these wounded, glasses-like spectacles. One lens missing, one arm missing. The remaining lens was as smudged as could be. I was upset at the sight of them, and I demanded Mom ride uptown with me to pick out some new readers for her. She very calmly told me to settle down because “These work just fine.” She opened up the CHRONICLE and started to devour her weekly news feast.

Off, I drove in my red jalopy of a truck. When I returned to the porch, I had two pairs of reading glasses for her. She said, “Oh, thank you. I’m almost done.” And on and on she read without taking the time to switch to the new readers. Finally, she folded up the CHRONICLE, after her first of that week’s many perusals through the issue. She was glad to have the new glasses, but she was unwilling to give up this battered pair. I was unwilling to let her keep them, knowing that if she had them anywhere around her, she would certainly use them if they were handy. Mom deserved better.

So I was bad. Later that day, I stealthily stole these broken glasses from my mother’s duster pocket. It was for her own good though. I thought the glasses had the potential to be downright dangerous to Mom. Of course, I still have the pair, as you can see. Holding onto them helps me feel better about having stolen them from her, because if she really, really, really needed/wanted this exact pair, I could and would certainly give them back to her. She never mentioned this pair of readers ever again. And I did give her two new pairs. But I feel guilty about being a thug. I’m still, technically, a thief. And I still blame the CHRONICLE.

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Seems 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 her. Those three gals were born 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. Why?

Okay, so I’m in a minor snit at Suzanne today. Knowing how she feels about pressed shirts and ironing, I know this wrinkle biz will get under her skin mightily. It will bug her. 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 wrinkles, 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 topic.

Weird? Yes. It’s a kind of shorthand that let’s 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 shut up and dance a jig no one else in the galaxy could possibly understand.

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I Sorta Figured It Was Coming

It was inevitable. When I re-posted the infamous thong-attached-to-bow-tie photo yesterday, I should have realized I would get requests for the bow-tie-tuxedo-briefs photo. This snapshot was taken on New Year’s Eve 2018. So, with even more gratitude for TIE O’ THE DAY readers who remembered it, here it is.

For your complete viewing pleasure, take it all in. Do not miss a detail. Around my neck: 6 Ties o’ the Day, 2 Bow Ties o’ the Day. Bow tie beanie. Christmas lights jacket. Matching set of pajamas, for once. Bow tie/tuxedo socks. My clunky “funeral shoes,” which name I need to explain to y’all someday soon. And the star o’ the pic: my bow tie/tux Briefs o’ the Day, which I bought online for 0 cents and $2.99 shipping.

I have a feeling the thong and the briefs will show up again, having new adventures, this holiday season.

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A Yule Gift For Y’all

The kind comments I got after yesterday’s “unfriended” post made me feel like I was getting fan mail. Thank you so much for the uplift I needed. I didn’t even know I needed it until I got it. I appreciate that y’all seem to like reading my little tie posts about whatever carnival swirls through my brain on any given day.

In fact, I feel so appreciative of your appreciation that I am compelled to give you a Christmas-in-August gift of thanks in response to your positive words. I searched the 2018 Christmas neckwear photo archives for a speshul image. Choosing the right Bow Tie o’ the Day picture to demonstrate my gratitude to you was a no-brainer: it had to be this one.

Remember, in early December last year an anonymous TIE O’ THE DAY reader sent me, via UPS, this black bow tie attached to a festive thong. Fantabulous undies! It was a perfect gift for me and my funny bone, but not suitable for public viewing here without being worn strategically with my mixed-up pajamas, my sleep cap, and my Georgia Grayson Wadsworth-crocheted bow tie slippers. And yes, my pj pants are decked out in likenesses of The Grinch.

Please enjoy this out-of-season gift snapshot, with all my thanks for reading TIE O’ THE DAY.

HEY! Why does every photo Suzanne snaps of me make me look like a bobblehead– like in this pic? My head looks bigly and bobbly when she’s the photographer.

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Two Arkansas Trip Pix, And Two HIPPA Violations

Our trip to Arkansas was over a month ago, but I noticed I hadn’t yet used these two AR pix on TIE O’ THE DAY. Here they are, kids. Photo #1: Bow Tie o’ the Day is dotted with buttons, in honor of Suzanne’s sewing and crafting abilities. This photo was taken by the “fireplace” in a Fairfield Bay, AR hotel where we found a restaurant fit for a fancy dinner. I quite like these “fireplaces” as decor, but they are not “real” fireplaces in my opinion. They are groovy-looking electric space heaters, set into a wall. Photo #2: I created Bow Tie o’ the Day out of a magnet and our Arkansas rental car key fob. I never once misplaced the key fob that whole day of sightseeing in the Ozarks.

MOM UPDATE: Mom’s doing well. That woman can rally like no other. Two weeks ago we were almost certain she’d be leaving us to go find Dad at any minute, but she showed us she wasn’t ready for that adventure just yet. In fact, the MCR Facebook page shows that Mom has recently been on MCR field trips to Cracker Barrel in Spanish Fork, and to the Oak City Days parade. Yahoo, Big Helen!

SUZANNE UPDATE: We have no definitive answer as to why Suzanne’s leg decided to swell up a few days ago. Swelling happens. Once it was discovered that blood clots were not the issue, we breathed a sigh o’ relief. And the next day, Suzanne’s leg was magically back to its normal size. We’re stumped.

Suzanne and I are both 55. At this age, we’re not old, but we’re “kinda old.” We’re relatively healthy, although we have the aches, pains, and issues that come with being alive for over half a century. Each ache alone is minor, but the list is 55 years’ long. They add up to a lot of creaking and groaning while moving through a day. Those sounds have become the constant soundtrack to my life. I know I’m not alone in that. I know you know what I’m talking about.

Anyhoo…. Suzanne and I check in with each other about our aging health every day by asking the simple question, “How are you doing today?” We have a kind of trick answer we want to hear from each other. We want the answer we hear to be “fine.” But in our code, “fine” doesn’t mean “fine.” “Fine” means this: “The list of my aches and pains is so long that it would take me half the day to name and explain them, and we both have way too much to do today. But there’s nothing new to add to my list since we last went over it, so there’s nothing new for you to worry about today.”

The word “fine” saves so us so much time.

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Out Of The Mouths Of Babes

Gracie shows off her head Bow Tie o’ the Day for us to enjoy. Apparently, she made herself sick with excitement just by wearing it. Bishopette Collette’s exact words when she posted these pix: “That outfit lasted all of 3 seconds.” 🤣