In my position as Chief Fashion Goddess here at TIE O’ THE DAY, I am often consulted about topics of style and attire. Recently, I was asked if a person can ever go overboard by wearing too much peacock garb at one time. My answer is a resounding, “No! It is not humanly possible to wear an overabundance of peacock paraphernalia. Too much is never enough—where the peacock theme is concerned.” These selfies are my proof. I mean—really, does it look like I’m overly peacocked? Do I look like a lunatic? Do I appear to be off my clothing rocker? Of course not. I look like the redneck poet that I am. 😜🤡
FYI My peacock Bow Tie o’ the Day was made with genuine peacock feathers.
Tie o’ the Day is a brand new acquisition to my holiday tie collection this year. It offers up, not gingerbread cookies, but NINJAbread cookies. A clever twist, I must say. Please note that Face Mask o’ the Day is covered with bow-tied deer. And my pants are Christmas-lighted. I’m a happy girl in my attire today.
Instead of regaling you with some anecdote or another, I have a question for my fellow Delta Rabbits. I woke up this morning thinking I should wash my truck later this afternoon, and that made me think of the old car wash in Delta. It was sort of on the north side of Main Street, across from where Quality is now located. I say it was sort of on Main Street because it was behind a house that was on that corner. I believe the older couple who lived in the house owned the car wash. They also owned and ran the little trailer park on Main Street beside the house. I can’t remember exactly what the little set-up was called. To the best of my recollection the sign said something like “The B Kitten Klean Car Wash and Trailer Park.” Somebody help me fill in the blanks of my memory. I can see the old couple as clear as day in my mind, but I can’t think of their names. Was it Larsen? Also, did I make up that there was a little RV-type trailer park there? I look forward to any answers y’all can provide.
Yup, it’s time once again for me to display the annual Balls ‘n’ Ho’s neckties and bow ties photo. It’s become a Christmas tradition for TIE O’ THE DAY. These photos don’t show all of my Balls ‘n’ Ho’s neckwear, but this is a bigly chunk of it. You can see I enlisted 2 of my Chuck Brown Christmas trees to aid me with the theme. Just as the Balls ‘n’ Ho’s post is a tradition, it is also a tradition for me to make few/zero comments about the theme, and to let you know you are free to make your own jokes about the display, among your own people. (Just don’t make ’em hateful.) Hey, a wee bit o’ irreverence is good for dealing with the inherent stresses of the holiday season. I promise. ☃️
Banned Books o’ Today: I am re-reading Harriet Beecher Stowe’s UNCLE TOM’S CABIN, and Richard Wright’s NATIVE SON. (Are you beginning to recognize a theme here, about what kind of books get banned?)
Suzanne came home from work one day recently and I said, “Suzanne! I just got the ugliest golf shirt ever! You’ve got to see it!” When I showed her this Shirt o’ the Day, she was gobsmacked. She was stricken and pale. I could see the nausea take over her face. “Isn’t it cool?” I beamed! I knew the shirt would go with ALL of my golf pants. In the first photo, you will note that I have pulled up my pants to old-man-in-a-hat level, as high as I could pull them up. A while back, I ordered a new Thanksgiving Tie o’ the Day. Unfortunately, the tie material had been cut such that there is not one headed turkey displayed on the front of the tie. On the back of the tie, however, turkey heads abound. Hey, it’s a look. 🦃
I got only half-dressed today, but I think I’m looking fine. You can’t go wrong with Grinch pajama bottoms and what I call my book-writing Tie o’ the Day. I’m wearing my cow Sloggers boots because my feet are cold. Anyhoo…
I’m riled and snarky about this attempt to ban books in Delta. I will be both serious and sarcastic in this post, I’m sure. First, let me be clear about a few things. I do think that some books are not age-appropriate for high schoolers and should not be available in a high school library. In fact, I think there are books which have no place in any library—for example, books whose sole aim is to be pornographic. They certainly do not belong on any school library shelf. Personally, I would prefer those books didn’t exist at all. But I live in the United States of America, where I have the right and responsibility to respect other people’s reading rights—whether or not I agree with their choices in reading material.
With the internet giving us the ability to download books to our phones and computers in less than a second, we have to be honest about how difficult it is to actually ban a book. If you think removing a “bad” book from the library is exiling it to the garbage dump, you are sorely mistaken. I can guarantee you the best way to get a high school student to read a specific book is to ban it from the shelves of the library. I can also guarantee you that the borrowing and online buying of the books mentioned in the The Chronicle article about someone wanting to pull books from the DHS library’s shelves caused many Millard County people of all ages to borrow, download, or order online Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye and Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse 5, just to see what all the hub-bub is about. For that unintended consequence that all you book-banning advocates make happen, I thank you. Over the years, you Book Busybodies have caused millions of people to read incredible and majestic books they never would have thought to read without your efforts to get those books off the shelves of school/public libraries. Like I said, I thank the Book Police for that, but not for their know-it-all, puritanical, busybody attitudes, or their thick inability to recognize literary merit and the reality of the messy stories of all humanity. It lowers a book-banner’s credibility to talk about a single scene or paragraph, because a book is an entirety. You cannot properly judge a book by one paragraph or one scene. Or because it has that one F-word in it. A book is whole, true in its own context—and it must be read and understood as such.
I know these things by knowing human nature; by raising two boys; and by listening to the stories of what thousands of my students told me they had read so far, in their young book-lives. For years, I taught writing at the University of Utah, at Salt Lake Community College, and at a public middle school in Baltimore. On more than one occasion, I had recent high school graduates and returned missionaries come up to me in class holding a “banned” book and asking questions like, “Why did this book get banned? I’ve read it and there were some parts that were a little graphic, but they were important parts of the story.” Yup. Just the other day, I did some research on why some folks once wanted to ban the children’s book, Stuart Little. Yes, the tiny mouse/boy. The reason? Bestiality. Because there’s only one way you can get a mouse/boy. I kid you not. That is ridiculous, and it says more about the abhorrent mind of the reader and the school board which banned it than it says about the book itself. Fortunately, the Stuart Little ban did not last long.
If you desire to pull The Bluest Eye off the DHS shelf, make sure you pull everything Toni Morrison has ever written. Her main characters all experience challenging situations (just as characters in any book do, or else we wouldn’t read them). Morrison won the Nobel Prize for Literature almost 30 years ago. So what would she know about telling a story? To heck with books that are meritorious and true to not-always-white, unfortunate characters. If we read Morrison’s books, we might learn something about art and language and culture and families who endure racism, poverty, and lack of education—people who start life already defeated. We might learn compassion.
In The Bluest Eye, the rape of a child—by the child’s own father—happens in a two-page scene , and it is not easy to get through. The scene always makes me feel repulsed, brokenhearted, and angry. When I read it, I usually have to close the book for a time before I can finish reading the rest of the story. I sometimes choose to skip the scene altogether. See that—I have the agency to choose what I read. The passage is in no way pornographic, and to suggest so is to belittle the child who is raped. The passage is not prurient in any way. It is a devastating scene, deserving of our empathy and regard. There is a lot of feeling to be dealt with, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be on a high school library shelf. We all have to wrestle with life’s vicissitudes. We all need to learn something about dealing with tragedy, loss, and complicated love. We shouldn’t be sheltered from reading about it when we are young, so that it smacks us in the face and drops us to our knees when we finally encounter it when we graduate, leave home, and enter the larger world. To keep age-appropriate hard things from kids is to cripple them just when they are seeking to establish their independence. When faced with a situation they’ve been sheltered from, they haven’t been taught the tools they will need to have in order to make good choices about what to do, or they might just run back home where the too-constant shelter has made them narrow and ill-equipped for independence. That’s a decimating kind of defeat for a new adult.
If you want to ban The Bluest Eye from the DHS library, be prepared to get rid of the Bible wherever you find it, because there’s child rape in there, too—as well as incest, domestic abuse, infidelity, drunkenness, and on and on. Also, you better move completely out of Millard County because all of those things happen in your towns. But, of course, they happen in every town, so I guess you might as well stay. You would be surprised to know how much the kids know about the adult hijinks that goes on around them in a small town. I knew about plenty when I was growing up there, and I didn’t hear it from my parents. I usually told them the news, and then we would talk and they would help me understand the repercussions of the hijinks. (I was lucky we could talk like that.) That was before we had the internet or iPhones. The kids find out even more quickly now. Some kids, but probably not most, might tell their parents about what they know and read. If they do talk to you about what goes on or what they read, don’t pontificate. Ask them questions about what they think about things. Tell them humbly what you think about those same things. They are trying to figure out how to handle the knowing.
I find it interesting that what those who would ban The Bluest Eye cite as the reason for it usually this one particular scene. They don’t seem to have any problem with the ingrained racism, the beatings, the destitute poverty, or any of the other trials that are part of the story. None of that offends them. So I guess those things are okay. We can have books that realistically show those things in the library. Hey, I have an idea: let’s rip those few pages of the child-rape scene out and keep the rest of The Bluest Eye on the high school library shelf.
I have never been inside the new DHS library, but I have no doubt I could walk between the shelves and pull out a book at random, and find something in it somebody somewhere would find objectionable. Banning books ends up being arbitrary—someone doesn’t like or understand something they saw in a book, so they want to save all the kids from it—even as you can hear profanity and bullying in the halls between classes. If you want to ban something, do the students a favor and dedicate yourself to banning the bullying at DHS. That is a grave daily danger to students, certainly more harmful to bullied kids than any book. With school districts in Utah worrying about lawsuits and bad press, all it takes is a very-tiny-but-obnoxiously-loud fuss for a school district to crumble to the unreasonable whims of a few fussers. Look, I haven’t lived in Delta for five years now, so I have no idea who the members of the school board even are. I probably even know and like them. I know of the woman spear-heading the ban, but I do not know her personally. I write this post on principle, without regard to the persons involved, when I say I am disappointed that, according The Chronicle, some of the board members showed support for pulling literature off the shelves of a public school. I am disgusted that any school board member would support the narrowing of students’ education. Unfortunately, however, I am not surprised by their support. I love me my Delta and my DHS and my Delta family and friends, but there is far too much giving-in to certain squeaky wheels just to keep any kind of noise down.
As far as what books you read, you can decide for yourself. I can too. The Constitution says so. You can tell your kids what books you will allow them to read, but know that they likely will read exactly whatever they want.: you just won’t know about it. That’s it. Nobody gave a loud person or loud small group the right to decide for everybody else in the community what is available for them to read. So who should decide what goes in a high school library? I see nothing wrong if we leave that to the professionals. It’s the school librarian’s job to ultimately choose and manage books that can educate and speak to the experience of all students, regardless of the librarian’s faith or political party. So you better pick an extraordinary librarian who puts the student population’s wide-ranging educational needs first. If a school district hires a lazy librarian, it’s the kids who will suffer. If librarians are doing their jobs correctly they should be reading book reviews and books, looking at book award winners, and then obtaining library books that represent all of the school’s students, not just the majority. Add to that a balanced community committee of readers who are representative of the entire community, not just the majority. ALL of those asking for a book to be tossed should have to read that book AND participate in an open-forum discussion of said book with people who advocate for keeping the book on the shelf. Never, ever, ever advocate for banning a book you have not read. Don’t let anyone get away with that crapola either. Banning books that are superbly written and make the reader think makes a mockery of the 1st Amendment. You might as well ban that.
FYI I promise, the personal stuff I have to say about this topic will show up tomorrow. I don’t know how juicy it is, but if I wrote a book about it, I don’t think it could show up in the DHS library. It will have that word “gay” in it, and that might make anything I publish unacceptable for teen consumption. I wonder how I handled actually being that word as a teenager at DHS. 🤔
Thank you to all of you fine folks who took the time to send me birthday greetings yesterday. I will have you know that I wore my birthday suit under my showy clothes all day—as I have done every day for the last 58 years. My birthday suit gets a bit wrinklier each year, but it’s still in pretty good shape.
Every year—as I grow more ancient—my birthday feels more like Thanksgiving to me than Thanksgiving itself does. My birthday is a day I feel beyond appreciative of the people I have come across in my life: people who have nurtured me, taught me, laughed at my jokes, tolerated me, encouraged my personal eccentricities, and just plain loved li’l ol’ me—some of whom I have never even met in person. I live a fantastic and rich life, and I have worked hard for it. But I am well aware I did not get what I have—or get where I am—all by myself. Nobody makes a wonderful life on their own. Although some people don’t want to admit it, we are all connected. We make ourselves better when we look out for each other. If you think you are alone in this adventure called life, please correct your thinking. You are not, nor have you ever been, alone. I am honored to be here on this planet with you. I carry you with me in the pockets of my heart, and you help to make me stronger. So thanks again to you all, my pals. 🏋️♀️
Have a groovy weekend, boys and girls! I’ll post again Monday morning. Be there, or be square. 🔲
Bigly Bow Tie o’ the Day has found a sure fashion home here with us recently. I knew it would look outstanding with this particular pair of golf pants and my dotty shirt. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that there’s no such thing as polka dot perfection, because you are looking at it right this very minute. That’s my dotted theme, and I’m stickin’ to it—for today, at least. And I ain’t clownin’ around about it one bit. 🤡
Valentine Teddy bear Tie o’ the Day knows that having a good thing can make you downright speechless. Whether you’re contemplating love or a pair of golf pants, sometimes words can’t convey its singular splendor. So shut up about it, and behold its glory. Bask in its beauty. Love. Golf pants. And a necktie. Stand all amazed—at peace in content silence—in your luck to have found what you were looking for. 💝👖👔
Even without bright colors, flowery Tie o’ the Day shines every bit as boldly as my newest golf pants. Have I mentioned lately that I have fallen thigh-over-knee in love with crazy golf pants? I mean—based on a pair like this, who wouldn’t be smitten?
A couple of my fave-rave television shows over the years are COPS and LIVE PD. They are real-life cop shows. I’m sure Suzanne and I have seen every episode of both, and we marvel at some of the dopey things captured criminals will say to the cops as they plead their innocence. Our all-time favorite defense has been used more times than you can possibly imagine. It happens when a culprit’s pockets are being searched by a police officer, and drugs are found to be in said pockets. When the cop finds the drug and shows it to the alleged criminal, the suspect will often adamantly explain to the officer, in all seriousness, “That’s not mine. These aren’t my pants!” Gosh, that sounds believable. Maybe putting on someone else’s pants is a more prevalent problem throughout the USA than I’m aware of, but I doubt it. In my entire life, even when I was a professorial-level drinker, I cannot think of one time when I accidentally or purposely slipped on a pair of pants belonging to someone who isn’t me. I still watch re-runs of those shows, just hoping to hear that not-my-pants defense come out of the mouth of captured culprits.
Sometimes when, for whatever reason, things get tense around the house, it is now common for whichever one of us is in the doghouse to irrelevantly declare, “These aren’t my pants!” We immediately laugh, and it easily breaks the tension—no matter what the trouble is about. In reality, I am loyal to my pants, and this is true: no matter what is found in the pockets of my golf pants, no matter who put it there, I will never say, “These aren’t my pants!” These are definitely my pants, and you can’t have them.
Snazzy red Tie o’ the Day is here to announce that my new dotty Golf Pants o’ the Day finally showed up in the mail. I am so excited to go grocery shopping this morning and show them off! When I first put this pair o’ pants on, I immediately sensed that they will likely be my new favorite pants. Prepare to see them often. Where have golf pants been all my life? Clearly, I have been looking for pants in all the wrong places. 👖