Countdown To Mom’s 90th Birthday

Mom is a character. She has also been a positive example of so many of the values we try to live by as good folks upon the planet. She is a woman of action. She is compassionate, non-judgmental, resilient, loyal, generous, service-minded, patient, empathetic, principled, and on and on, into et cetera territory. I consider her life-long examples of these values to be a quiver-full of gifts to me—each one important to finding my way through my life. She’s been a stellar example of her values to anyone who has spent time with her.

One value I realize Mom taught me was a surprise. And it’s a bigly thing. I don’t know how I missed it for so many years, but I did not recognize it as a gift until I became a parent myself. And just what is that valuable gift my Mom gave me? She gave me the gift of imperfection. Some parents have a tough time letting their kids—and everyone else— see them make mistakes. They can’t admit to being/doing wrong. Mom has always openly embraced her mis-steps and weaknesses, and she has tried to learn from them and become a better person. She’s never been shy about sharing her mistakes with others, so they can benefit from her experiences. She gave me the gift of acknowledging my imperfection—as we all must do—as a necessary way to thrive and be better than I was before I messed up. And Mom has taught me that it’s not enough to learn from your imperfection; you are obligated to show others how to best live contentedly with their own inevitable foibles. Nobody’s perfect, but we often waste a ton of energy and time pretending to be. Here’s a secret: None of us is fooling anybody. Might as well learn from who we really are.

Mid-week Mom O’ The Shades

I don’t know exactly what Mom is up to at Millard Care and Rehab today, because I can’t make phone contact with her. She has so many family members and pals on this earth who regularly call to check on her that her phone is always busy, especially since she’s living in lockdown. That’s a good thing, and I’m very grateful to everyone who cares so deeply about her—except when I want to talk to her and her phone is busy. I’m annoyed I have to share her with anyone else when that happens.

This is a photo of Mom at MCR demonstrating her crafting skills earlier this year. The duster she’s wearing has a small Bow Tie o’ the Duster at the neck, thus qualifying Mom to be on TIE O’ THE DAY. But my fave detail about this pic is that when you look closely at Mom’s ear, you can see she is wearing her clip-on earrings. Yes, she put on earrings to do crafts at the care center. What a sense of her own style, Helen Sr. has! She knows exactly who the Hell-en she is, and she’s not afraid to show her true hellion self to anybody. No wonder she sleeps well. May we all be so comfortable with who we truly are when we’re 89. I’ve got a lot to work on to feel that cool about myself, but I’m trying. Mom’s always been a phenomenal character, drawing people into her circle without even trying to. Which is why her phone is always busy and I can’t get in touch with her.

Pandemic Hairs Thursday: Sharing Kindness

On a daily basis, there are lots of things being said and done out in the world which Skitter and I find disappointing, chaotic, and generally not nice. We have chosen to live by a few truths that assist us in making our way through life relatively unscathed by the malarkey being so proudly spat by destructive hooligans we occasionally encounter in our realm. Chief among our values is KINDNESS. And one of the bigly truths of how kindness works is that the only way to live kindness is to share it. It is impossible to be a kind soul if you’re only kind to yourself. It is also impossible to be a kind soul if you don’t put kindness into action. Feeling kind, or thinking kind thoughts, is completely ineffective. You must share kindness, in order to keep yourself kind.

Anyhoo… On today’s Pandemic Hairs Thursday, I decided to reinforce to Skitter the value of KINDNESS. I asked her if she would share one of her new Ties o’ the Day with me. She was glad to share it. And I asked her if she wanted me to share some of my Pandemic Hairs o’ the Day with her. I mean—I have an excess of hairs I’m not using right now. She relished the idea of temporarily having long hair. Despite how miserable she looks in these photos, she was giddy. Skitter and I just sat around in the loveseat for part of the afternoon, sharing her ties and my hairs with each other. We both agreed that even simple, near-effortless acts of kind can enrich us beyond measure. To perform acts of kindness is a revolutionary idea.

Be kind, y’all. Commit to kindness. Kindness goes with whatever you’re wearing.

Fashion Truth

I rarely post something which is not my creation or story, but this is a timeless fashion truth I ran across in my old files. TIE O’ THE DAY agrees with this visual aid. Wear what makes you happy, not just trendy things fashion scientists tell you that you must. Except for masks. Wear masks right now, no matter how silly you think a mask makes you look. You and those around you will certainly look alive if y’all wear masks.

Pandemic Weird Date Nights Don’t Kill People

Since the beginning of the pandemic, Suzanne and I haven’t been venturing out like we normally have in the past. We’ve enjoyed spending more time at home, but we knew it was time to get out of the casa for a Weird Date Night. A Pandemic Weird Date Night, in fact. But what does one do for a Weird Date in a pandemic? I don’t know what y’all would do, but about a month ago I told Suzanne that for our next Weird Date Night, we were going to take a Concealed Firearm Permit class—which we did last night. It’s not the most romantic thing to do, but see how happy we were to be learning about gun laws.

That might not seem like a “weird” thing to do to those of you who know me and my gun-y family. We had guns coming out the rafters. A gun here, a gun there, here a gun, there a gun, everywhere a gun, gun. My family hunted and fished and hunted some more. It is not much of an exaggeration to say that my dad killed a coyote every darn morning of his life before heading to Top’s Cafe for his morning cup o’ Joe.

Suzanne, on the other hand, had never shot a gun in her life before I took her target shooting with a quaint .22 rifle, in Millard County in the 80’s. She’s never shot a gun since. And I myself did not carry the hunting bug into my adulthood. I killed pheasants and rabbits and a deer in my teens, then I was done with the whole thing. I have no problems with ethical gun use and hunting. Guns just weren’t my thing. I haven’t owned a gun as an adult until very recently.

I’ve been around, folks. I lived in the Washington, D. C. area for 8 years in the 90’s. I taught in inner city Baltimore schools at a time when Baltimore was the murder capitol of the country. I have traveled bigly. And I have never felt the stirring need to own—let alone carry—a gun. Until now.

Why the change of mind? Two reasons: toilet paper and face masks. In short, there are some absolute nuts out there, boys and girls. Fisticuffs are flying over toilet paper. There are people throwing punches over the wearin’ o’ face masks. FACE MASKS, PEOPLE! We are so spoiled we are starting a grumbling civil war over a tiny piece of material and a few inches of elastic. If face masks are the biggest threat to American freedom in our current culture, we are in a heckuva lot more trouble than we can even imagine. If warring about face masks is the thing most worthy of our time in a pandemic, I dare say we have too much time on our hands—and we aren’t using it wisely.

Some of us have lost perspective. Being inconvenienced by wearing a face mask to keep your possibly infectious breath and spittle from flying into another person’s personal space is not equivalent to losing a Constitutional right. To say it is the same, trivializes our hard-fought-for Constitutional rights. Every Constitutional right is made possible only by what I will call our “Constitutional responsibilities” to our fellow Americans. That’s my sermon, and I’m sticking to it.

Trust me—I haven’t lost perspective. I know what’s truly important. Honeycomb Bow Tie o’ the Day is what’s important. I’ll wear it on my face if I have to.

Everybody Needs A Superhero

I know y’all depend on me for fashion tips, and I take your trust in me very seriously. 😉 My fashion lecture today has to do with superheroes. More often than not, you must be your own superhero. You have the ability to save yourself far better than any other human being. It’s just how it is. You are in charge of you, and you’re usually the bigliest reason you got into whatever pickle you find yourself in, in the first place. Thus, you must become your own superhero.

To be a superhero to yourself, you don’t necessarily need a special name. But you do need a snappy costume. You need to create a style for the superhero you truly are, and it’s not that difficult.

First, no matter what costume you assemble, it must include some reference to at least one already existing comic book superhero. Here, you see my costume includes a Batman wood Bow Tie o’ the Day and my Batman socks.

Second, you must wear a tie of some ilk. Of course, of course, of course you must.

Third, to be an official superhero even to yourself, you must wear a cape. And in these photos, I’m wearing three capes at once. My Batman socks have their own capes. Look closely, and you will see the sock capes hang out over the back of my cowboy boots. The socks’ flowing capes make a superhero fashion statement even when I’ve still got my boots on.

And finally, choose a mask designed to scream out to onlookers KAPOW! ZAP! or BOOM!, or whatever powerful comic book word suits you. Have you got that? Your costume must include: a reference to an existing superhero; neckwear; a cape; and a mask. Add whatever else you think you might need. It’s a breeze.

There is no denying that today I have created an original superhero costume that will forever be identified with only me—at least until I drum up a different original one. Now, you must create your own stylish alter-ego, with whom you can rescue yourself from all harm. Go forth, my secretly superhero friends! You’ve got this.

Two Queens, Standing

We, here at TIE O’ THE DAY are pleased to present this forgotten late-60’s slide, starring my hip mom, Helen Sr., and her equally stylish mom, my Oak City grandma, Martha Anderson. Check out their mod footwear. Grandma makes those Keds look sexy as all get-out, don’t you think? And, of course, they’re tied with bows.

The date on this slide is September of 1968. I don’t know what these two precious ladies were up to that day, but it’s a safe bet that yumtastic cooking, canning, and/or expert quilting was involved. (Note: It appears from this picture that Grandma Anderson still had both of her eyes, but that wouldn’t be for much longer.)

If you’ve had the chance to know these two dames, there is nothing further I need to tell you about them. These women always spoke for themselves, and presented themselves as exactly who they were and what they were about. (Mom continues to do so, even on pandemic lockdown at the care center.) What you saw and heard from them was what you got. I would say that Mom is a more sarcastic, liberated version of Grandma, but that is due mostly to the different times into which they were born. If Mom is Grandma-squared, I am Mom-cubed—simply due to historical culture.

If you haven’t had the honor of knowing either/both of them, let me offer this about Mom and Grandma: They mirrored each other in their generosity and willingness to serve others. They differed in approach somewhat. Mom won’t let anybody get away with anything mean or petty, but she’ll make and serve you scrumptious potato salad while she’s nicely putting you in your place. You end up thanking Mom, as you walk away from being shown the error of your ways.

Grandma Anderson is the only person I’ve known who truly loved her enemies—to the point that she couldn’t remember who her enemies were, or even that she had any. I recall a conversation with Grandma during which, for whatever reason, I mentioned to her that “so-and-so” had once caused her some grief. Grandma was still sound of mind at the time of our conversation, but she truly could not recall any such slight from “so-and-so,” or from anybody else. She had no time for enemies, because she was too busy loving everybody. I’m working on honing that eternally handy skill, inch by inch.

Summer Waits For No-one

My Klimt-inspired Bow Tie o’ the Day is a perfect cherry-on-top selection for my green-and-white, old-timey swimming suit. I found a green-and-white striped Face Mask o’ the Day which almost matches. I’m good with almost matches on rare occasions.

It’s pool time folks. I’m wearing my cowboy boots here in the photo just cuz I like to wear my cowboy boots. They make an especially bold statement, but I won’t be swimming in them. I swam in my cowboy boots at the Reservoir near Delta once when I was a kid, and I got stuck in the sand at the bottom. No matter how hard I tugged and pulled, I could not budge my boots from the muck. I got stucker and stucker. I stood out in the water, calling for help for what felt to me like hours, but it was probably more like 10 minutes. There was no way in heck I was gonna just pull my feet out of my stuck boots and swim to shore. No way in heck was I going to leave my cowboy boots out there to drown without me. I waved my arms, again and again, and yelled for assistance. Even then, people knew I was eccentric, so they just thought I was waving hello and putting on a show for those on shore.

Finally, some drunk hippie I didn’t even know suddenly realized I was in a predicament. He swam out to save me, and he patiently dove beneath the water to release me and my boots. He carried my boots to shore for me.

I learned two lessons that day: 1. Don’t swim in your cowboy boots, no matter how much you love wearing them. 2. Sometimes the drunk stranger will be the first one to save you from yourself.

I’m As Tough As My Legs Are Fish-belly White

Teensy Bow Tie o’ the Day comes to us in a photo from a LAGOON visit a couple of years ago. I like this photo because it not only has a bigly tooth in it, but it illustrates how laughable I can sometimes look when I try to be tough. Me trying to intimidate with my ripped self can come off looking more like me trying to resemble a cartoon character. I’m an uber-resilient broad—as strong as they come. But being all in-your-face pugilistic does not match my deep, bipolar, American soul. Oh, I have to admit I can rustle up some truly piercing faces when it’s absolutely necessary. If you’re a teacher or a parent or a spouse, if you have any chance of surviving your duties, you MUST have a quiver full of faces which will wordlessly get your point across to whoever it is you’re trying to reach.

You know that thing about how some people have eyes in the back of their heads, cuz they somehow see everything that goes on anywhere in their vicinity? The back of my head really does. I see everything, even if it’s in the next room. I apparently have the ability to conjure up more than one I’m-all-business-so-knock-it-off face in the back of my head. I developed and honed such back-o’-the-head faces while teaching in Baltimore, strictly as a method of survival. You have to have those “looks” to quiet a rowdy class, nip trouble in the bud, and to successfully break up physical altercations without getting clocked yourself. But my tough glares bear no resemblance to what I’m all about. Fight Club R Not I.

Think Before You Panic

If you’re anything like me, over the years you have developed your own pantheon of go-to experts you can summon up in your own mind when you find yourself in a predicament, with a pocketful of questions. They are generally folks whose character you admire and try to emulate. Of course, there’s Jesus, and the What Would Jesus Do? (WWJD) question to help guide you. A lot of people use that one.

One of my staples is WWJJD—as in What Would Judge Judy Do? Judy is bigly on fairness. She’s also loud and funny. She knows what to do and say in every situation. If you’re as lucky in the mother department as I am, you also consider What Would Mom Do? (WWMD). My mom is what I consider to be Judge Judy Lite. She can size up a situation in two seconds and then tell a hilarious and relevant true story that gives you a clue about your best options for solving a problem.

It’s always good to follow-up any need for assistance with WWDD—as in What Would Dad Do? It was Dad’s spirit I called upon a couple of day’s ago. I was cooking, and I nearly decapitated the tip of my left index finger while opening a package of Omaha Steaks. Oh, how the blood did spurt! Suzanne almost called 911, and she told me I needed a stitch or three. I did not disagree with her about the stitches, but there’s a pandemic going on out there, which made me leary about heading off to a hospital for a measly stitch.

I reflected on Dad and his occasional wounds from mishaps he incurred in the course of his beekeeping and bricklaying. He was not a klutzy guy at all, but accidents happen. During my kidhood, I witnessed him care for a number of work-wounds to his appendages. I did not witness him go to the doctor for his wounds. He sucked it up, cleaned it up, wrapped it up, and healed himself. WWDD? If Dad had maimed his finger as badly as I vexed mine, he would have simply stayed home and fallen asleep reading his newspaper. I knew sculpting myself a bandage and bending a splint—before falling asleep while reading the paper—would be exactly what he would counsel me to do.

Bandage Tie o’ the Day has aided my finger-healing greatly. I’m always happy to have an excuse to wear this novelty neckwear specimen. A terrific feature of bandage Tie is its padding in its middle section, just like with a real Band-Aid. If you ever see me wearing this live-and-in-person, please feel free to touch Tie for yourself. I believe in sharing the groovy stuff o’ life, no matter how ridiculous.