Category: Cufflinks

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If It’s My Birthday Dinner, It Must Be STANZA

STANZA gifted me a hunk of tiramisu for my birthday.
Getting older is a blast with Suzanne.
A red lips shirt is always in fashion.
“Tiramisu” is a jaunty word to say.
One of my slice-o-birthday-cake cufflinks.

So about now, you’re wondering if you missed the final tales o’ Portland and the Bruce concert. I can assure you that you have not missed a one. The Portland “difficulties” have continued to haunt me here in UT, even as I attempt to put together the ending stories of our “cursed” trip. It seems a slew of Portland photos I distinctly remember taking have gotten lost somewhere in my iCloud. I didn’t even know that was possible. But they certainly are nowhere on my actual phone, so I’m cloud-sleuthing, so to speak. Trust me—the last Portland stories soon will be told, with or without pix.

Thanks to y’all who took a moment out of your day to send me a birthday wish on the 10th. I’m sure I have mentioned it in posts before, but I regard my birthday as my true Thanksgiving Day. It is the day of the year when I find myself reflecting on my full life of blessings, luck, interesting characters, and all-around treasury of days-add-up-to-decades of constant wonderment. The kindnesses shown me by those in my tribe—and by those in strangers’ tribes—have baffled, befuddled, and bewitched me for the whole of my life. My gratitude knows no bounds. Thank you. And I mean you. Yes, you.

Suzanne took me out to birthday dinner at STANZA, as she did last year. I’m making a bigly deal of it here because I’m voting for it to become a forgone conclusion that STANZA is my official birthday dinner spot. Suzanne is a literal-minded person. This is my little way of clobbering her over the head with the hint that I want my birthday dinner at STANZA every year I have a birthday. (Do you think she got my birthday dinner point?)

We just got seated at STANZA when a rain deluge began, complete with a lightning show. Suzanne arranged the weather just for my viewing pleasure, I’m sure. Suzanne ordered her usual pasta, as a result of which she still smells garlicky today. I ordered the pan-seared halibut but due to some unforeseen kitchen problem, the halibut had to be scratched from the menu. Scallops showed up in front of me instead, and I was so glad because now I can make up a new word to say I ate “scallopbut” on my 59th birthday. The folks at STANZA gifted us tiramisu for dessert. The night was perfect.

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Dinner Was Da Best

I don’t know what you’d wear to your birthday dinner, but I wore my own birthday balloons Bow Tie o’ the Day. I also wore my birthday cake Cufflinks o’ the Day and my 3-D glasses Lapel Pin o’ the Day. Suzanne took me to dinner at STANZA in downtown SLC, which we have not been to since the pandemic began. It’s one of my fave places to dine. Suzanne had the spinach artichoke cannelloni and I had the pan-seared halibut. We also had dessert: Suzanne had cheesecake and I had a butterscotch concoction of some sort. It was a complete yumfest. The last photo herein is what I found on my chair when I got up to leave. It is that little end of paper they leave on your straw to keep it sanitary. Somehow it made it’s way to my chair, and my butt appears to have twisted it into the shape of a bow tie as I sat and ate. And now I am back on the Lent wagon, until beyond bitter end.

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Tunes During A March Snowstorm

I gave myself a pre-birthday present last night. I dragged Suzanne to a concert at the Eccles Theater in SLC. She knew next to nothing about the band we went to see: Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit. Shawn Colvin opened for them, which was great because she played solo—just Shawn and her voice and her guitar. She somehow made her guitar sound like an entire band. Yup, she plays that well. She is one of my all-time fave songwriters and has been for the last 30 years. Jason Isbell, on the other hand, is a recent discovery of mine. He plays a wild guitar, but I am most enamored of his songwriting skills. I have wide and eclectic taste in music, but there is one thing the artists I love to listen to have in common. They are generally superior songwriters. As a working poet, that makes complete sense to me. Words are music, too.

I often wear my wood guitar Bow Tie o’ the Day when I’m headed to a concert, and last night was not an exception. Excuse my uncouth Mask o’ the Evening, but my inner mode is sarcastic. I also wore my cassette tape “GOOD VIBES” lapel pin to the event.

All the usual concert types were there. You know, the group of women who didn’t open their mouths before the show, but as soon as the concert started, they immediately began talking too loudly—especially during the softer tunes. And, of course, there was the couple who just had to stand up and dance right in front of us, while holding their beers—which sloshed around and sprinkled the rest of us as they danced, kissed, and played air guitar. Remember lighters at concerts? Well, that was me last night: I wore my Bic lighter Cufflinks o’ the Evening in homage to concerts-back-in-the-olden-days.

We had a swell night out, despite the fact that Suzanne does not particularly like twang in her music. She told me more than once that she enjoyed the concert. And I almost believe her.

BTW I will be presenting some bigly news regarding TIE O’ THE DAY in tomorrow’s A.M. post. Don’t miss it, y’all.

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Day #7 With My Madras Shorts

I must confess something: One of the bigly pandemic changes I like is virtual church. I hope that’s a change that’s permanent. I never have to miss a Sunday. I can wear my Church Bow Tie o’ the Sabbath right there on my couch.

When attending church in person, I normally have to do a lot of toning down my attire—in order to not distract worshippers from the services. When I watch the services on my laptop, I don’t have to hold back my clothing choices at all. However, even though nobody’s around to see me watch church, I do believe in gussying up for the virtual event. One must make it special in some way. One must set the mood. Mom always wears earrings to just about any event, so I wear earrings to virtual church—with a cadre of lapel pins, pocket squares, and cufflinks. (Note: I’m wearing my CTR lapel pin here.)

As for my madras shorts, I won’t be wearing them soon. They are fun, but I’m tired of looking at them. I will wash them, fold them, and put them on the very bottom of my shorts stack. I cannot stand to wear the same exact outfit more than once a year, if ever. This last week has been difficult for me, because of that. Nevertheless, I survived, and I am a better woman for it.

BTW Skitter’s wearing her music tie because she likes to howl along with the virtual hymns.

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My Haircut Makes Me Look Like A Hedgehog

I’m here to confess that my occasional self-inflicted baldness feels amazing. I would describe the sensation of having all your hairs shaved off as similar to how it feels when you take off ye olde brassiere after getting get home from work. And, ladies, you know darn well how good that feels. I’m not exaggerating. Bald is a free feeling.

A naked head in winter is a tad cold, though. For whatever reason, the handful of times in my life I’ve felt the urge to go mostly fur-less on my noggin, I’ve felt it in winter. I’m not complaining about the frigid air. I do have a bigly hat collection from which my head can draw any warmth it might need, as you well have probably already noticed. It’s weird, though: My baldy head doesn’t usually get cold, but the tops of my ears freeze tremendously. I need Suzanne to crochet me teensy beanies for the tops of my ears. One ear beanie would have to be considerably larger than the the other, however, in order to completely cover the tip of my left ear, which is my Spock ear.

My pop-top drink cans Tie o’ the Day, and my Jack Daniels Cufflinks o’ the Day are an homage to the fact that while I wasn’t up to posting about it last week, I hit a sober milestone of much import to me. I managed to make it 5,000 days (5,008 as of today) without drinking so much as a Munchkin-sized drop of alcohol. That translates into almost 14 years of not-drinking God’s special fermentations. I especially miss beer, which I will always fondly think of as “liquid bread.” Likewise, I content myself with forever thinking of the bread that I eat as nothing less than “solid beer.” I have no regrets. Not about the drinking. And not about the hair.🍺💈

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We Haven’t Gone Out To Eat Since My Birthday Last March😱

When I posted about my 2002 Funeral Potatoes Olympic Pin a few days ago, it pierced my heart that since the pandemic came to the planet, I haven’t really had much of a reason to accessory-up and go out on the town—especially for fancy dinner at fancy restaurants. This means that I haven’t had reason to wear my lapel pins and cufflinks as I would normally do for our travel and grand outings, which also means I haven’t been posting photos of said lapel pins and cufflinks. I must remedy that, because my accessories live in the Tie Room with the neckwear, and they deserve their place in the spotlight, too.

Grapes Bow Tie o’ the Day sits bigly below my Mormon grapes Cufflinks o’ the Day, which I’m holding between my lips. But the bilgiest deal here is my Mormon grapes Lapel Pin o’ the Day, which I’m actually wearing more as a pocket accessory in this selfie. Isn’t it the coolest lapel pin ever known to mankind? I bought it on a trip with Suzanne to a Salt Lake City Deseret Industries store, in 1985. I think you can see why I have left the piece of jewelry attached to its D.I. sophisticated packaging ever since I got it. What is not visible here is the price tag stuck to the packaging. It cost a whole 50 cents. After owning it for 36 years, it is still priceless to me and my odd funny bone.

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Cool-A-Rama

Tie o’ the Day is made of a thick, weighty cotton weave. I wish you could feel its considerable heft. Even better, I wish you could watch me attempt to tie it. Its thick knot is so stiff it can only barely be tightened or loosened. Tie’s heaviness makes it a wonderful choice for wearing on a chilly day. In a pinch, you could crawl inside and use it as a very tight, but cozy, sleeping bag to toast your bones. Or, at least a finger or two.

Last night was the first time since June it was cool enough to sleep with the windows open. Not only does that mean we’re close to cape weather, it means we’re hitting long sleeve weather, which means we’re entering cufflinks weather. We here at TIE O’ THE DAY welcome you with open arms and closed cuffs into a chillier time of year– with mustard and ketchup bottles Cufflinks o’ the Day.

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I Joke, Therefore I Am

I take my mental health seriously, as we all should. But part of what allows me to keep trudging along through my bipolarity issues is poking fun at myself and my “crazy head.” If I can’t laugh about it daily, no matter how precarious or smooth my state of mind, I can’t survive it. In fact, my ability to joke and snark about almost any hard time in life is a great comfort to me. Being playful with words helps me be patient and firm with whatever is at hand. Humor is one of my self-defense tactics. I’ve been told my vaudeville act has helped others keep their heads healthy on occasion. I hope so.

Anyhoo… To be silly for my TMS technician this morning, I put together a hypnotic, googly-eyed Bow Tie o’ the Day (complete with matching Cufflinks o’ the Day) and a googly Shirt o’ the Day. (I did the best I could with the hat. Paisley will have to do.) My attire symbolizes my dizzy, goofy, insane, wacko, loony, mesmerizing “crazy head.” When I use these words– and others like them– in my quest to be comedic about my bipolar travels, my purpose is to take away any power they might have to mock mental illness. I own the words, so they don’t own me. I work to transform them into my zaniness.

Hey, it works for me.

15 TMS treatments down, 21 to go.