Category: wisdom

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Any Mention Of BYU Makes Me Think Of Trav

Pink Bow Tie o’ the Day brings the extra large– to bigly remind you October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. This wide, fat style of bow tie is commonly referred to as a Big Boy. I found this one at a company called Phat Knot.

As for the BYU hat… All I can say is that although I am a U of U fan, through and through, I have to give props to “The Y” every now and again because Bishop Travis and Bishopette Collette both work there. They themselves keep that institution of higher learning functioning smoothly. That might be stretching the truth just a little, but not much.

You should see Travis and Collette in the same room together: No matter what else is going on around them, you can almost see their adoration for each other seep out of their pores. It’s not a sappy thing to behold. It’s not a matter of public displays of affection. It’s as if some sort of love halo forms over and around them when they are together. They remind me of my parents in that way.

If everyone had that kind of love in their lives, the planet would be automatically transformed. Having that kind of love in your heart makes it impossible to have any desire to do harm to another human being.

I hope you live in the “love halo.” I know I damn sure do. ❣️ 😇

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This Is Only A Test

Cape o’ the Day meets Tie o’ the Day! Is this my kind of day, or what? Suzanne’s cape factory concocted this cape in a flash yesterday. Remember: This is just the practice cape, made out of the cruddy, yucky, “useless” fabric. But I think Suzanne did a fantastic job. I can’t wait to show this to the neighborhood. And I can’t wait for my real capes, to be made with decent fabric.

Yesterday, only after trying on the cape and giving its design my stamp of approval, I decided to pick out my own fabric for a couple more. Suzanne had an extra-thrifty JOANN’s coupon that was good only from 4-6 PM, so off we went to shop for material during that time. Guess who else was there. Every sewing and crafting aficionado in Davis County was there with us– with their own extra-thrifty, 4-6 PM JOANN’s coupon. And how many cashiers were checking out the customers? One.

Suzanne picked out fabric for one of my capes. I picked out fabric for two more. And then I went to the car to listen to music and nap while Suzanne stood in the line at the register. Forever. I certainly got the better of the whole deal. I got to listen to THE LUMINEERS and BAND OF HORSES. I got to have a nap. Meanwhile, Suzanne grew roots standing in the forever-long line AND had to pay the bill.

Poor Suzanne. She can’t wait until I have my energy and strength back, so she doesn’t have to do all the practical, tedious things by herself– and the big chores too, of course. She says she doesn’t mind that I’m a slug since surgery. But I mind. After the first two weeks following surgery, I’ve felt like I’m a drain on her and everyone else around me. I feel like I’m even a drain on myself. Feeling that way has taught me an unexpected lesson: Being responsible for yourself and your own wants and needs– bigly and small– gives you confidence and courage. I can feel mine slipping. I need to be useful to myself and others in order to get back my inner strength.

And now I’m going to ask Suzanne to cook me a steak and pour me a Diet Coke and find the remote I put down somewhere and find my bow tie slippers and let Skitter out to potty and fill Skitter’s food and water bowls and…  Oh, I feel my self-image worsening as I give her these orders to pamper me.

But I’m still gonna nag her to sew one of my real capes today while I watch General Conference. 😉

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My Message Is True

I’ve been a missionary for all things tie for most of my decades, and one of the tie myths I most have to dispel is the idea that the tie way of life is reserved for the male of the species only. Not true, my friends. Bow Tie o’ the Day is further proof that ties of any kind are good for each human being who walks the planet. Train up a child in the Bow Tie way they should go: and when they are old, they will not depart from Bow Ties. Or any other type of tie. 😁

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The Smart, The Stupid, And The Personal Responsibility

 

You may have noticed I didn’t write a post this morning. A funny thing happened on my way to the website. I decided to more closely examine The Ultimate SewingBox before I sat down at the laptop. There I stood, right in front of that massive piece of furniture, rapt with wonder. Apparently, Suzanne didn’t see me there when she folded the box closed around me before she went off to work. It is so cavernous that I didn’t even see her closing it on me. Suzanne left. And I got lost in The Ultimate SewingBox’s maze-like insides as I tried to escape its architecture. Only when I got Skitter’s attention by barking to her that I needed help– only then was I rescued, when Skitter clawed open The Ultimate SewingBox to its full expanse.

Being in The Ultimate SewingBox was the opposite of my experience of being folded up in the hide-a-bed in our living room when I was a kid. At least The Ultimate SewingBox didn’t make me claustrophobic. BTW Have I mentioned that The Ultimate SewingBox is bigly? Don’t worry. I’m sure I will repeat that fact on occasion. On many occasions.

Floppy Bow Tie o’ the Day looks relaxed, eh? Cufflinks o’ the Day are symbolic of the fact that I once again ate ice cream for breakfast. To be precise: I ate three scoops of Red Button Raspberry Cheesecake ice cream. I ate the same thing for lunch. Why? Because I can. I am the boss o’ me. The perks of being the boss of your adult self include being able to eat ice cream whenever you feel like it. You don’t need permission. All you need is to make sure you have ice cream in the freezer. Being an adult does not have to suck. Being an adult can be full of sweets.

The downside of being the boss of yourself is that you are responsible for every move you make. Choose the wrong person to marry? Your fault. Get in a drunken bar fight? Your fault. Get a ticket for driving 85 mph in a 50 mph zone? Your fault. Go broke buying too many bow ties? Your fault. You get the idea.

You have the power to fill your adult life with a long list of perks, though. There is a do-over for most of our screw-ups. We can convert our mistakes into perks. We must learn the lesson each bad move taught us. We must work to earn forgiveness. When we get our do-overs right,– when we’ve made the better choices–  every consequence that follows just might be a perk.

So be on the lookout for bad moves dressed up in perk’s clothing. Eating that ice cream can transform from perk to bad move when it shows up on your belly. You get a do-over on the fun stuff like that too. You must learn to be wise and use moderation. You can still eat ice cream for breakfast and lunch. It can still be a perk of adulthood, if you’ll take your fat gut out for a walk– anytime and anywhere you want– until your tummy gets back into shape. Walks are perks too, right? What negative consequence ever came from going for a walk? Exactly none. Ice cream + walks = a win-win. Heck, eat a Creamsicle on your walk. Balance always leads to perks.

You might as well take responsibility for your life. With some exceptions, you make your life what it is. You make you who you are. Yes, you really are mostly your own fault. 😁 😉🙃🤡

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Even The Ties Are Disappointed

Tie o’ the Day understands. We know what you came to see: The Ultimate SewingBox. Sorry to disappoint. Our scheduled assembler had to do other stuff last night, so he couldn’t come over and put together Suzanne’s new best friend. But he’s promised to be here tomorrow night to perform his miracle. Hey, he’s a young buck, so he has a lot of fish to fry, as they say. And there are a lot of fish in the sea, as they also say. And he has a right to sow his wild oats– as they also say. Okay, I’m done with the clichés now. We’re practicing our patience while anticipating the bigly outcome.

I decided to put together some autumn colors clash for the photo today. And in the photo you can also see a pile of boxes containing body parts of The Ultimate SewingBox. And, hey, it’s just one of the piles o’ parts.

When I assemble things– whether I use the instructions or not– the finished product does not in any way resemble what it’s supposed to be. At least I know that truth about myself. To be successful in life, a person’s gotta know their strengths and weaknesses. In fact, I don’t buy anything that must be assembled, unless I can think of some victim who will be willing to do it for me.

I don’t mind paying. Name your price. Hell, I’ll double it. I’ll bake you cookies. I’ll wash your car. I’ll have your babies. Just do it for me, please. And while you’re assembling the thing, I won’t stand over your shoulder and tell you how I think you should do it either. You are free to construct away. 🔨

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To Every Bow Tie There Is A Season

The chill is on. Bow Tie o’ the Day and I are experiencing our first long pants, long-sleeve shirt day since probably April. We mourn Summer. We’ll get used to the coming Fall and Winter seasons since we have to. Actually, Fall is my fave season of the year, but it seems like it’s a much shorter season than it was a few decades ago.

Right now I’m taking a gander at the mountains behind our house, and I see the turning leaves on the trees. Watching the leaves turn into their brilliant Fall colors is one of the best parts of the season, but this year the colors are muted and dull. Not enough water in them thar hills! It makes me sad just to look at them. The leaves are not their best selves. That’s gotta be hard on their self-esteem. 🤡

Beyond having to wear “long clothes,” another harbinger of the nearness of Fall is The First Fly-In-The-House o’ Fall, which has been tormenting me and Bow Tie and Skitter all morning. Fall flies move more slowly than Summer flies, it seems. But they are harder to swat for some reason. They move unpredictably, as if they are intoxicated. Apparently, drunk-acting flies are just as annoying as certain drunk people. You just wanna slap ’em. At least you can do that to flies.

A bigly bright spot to the return of long-sleeve shirts is the return of Cufflinks o’ the Day. Love me my ‘links. This morning’s ‘links need no introduction. We all know a crayon when we see one. Yes, these actually work. Of course, I don’t want to wear them down. I don’t have a crayon sharpener this mini.

I remember when I first read the word “crayon.” I had to figure that word out, because I had only ever heard the coloring sticks referred to as “crens.” Was it just me? I don’t think so, because nobody ever made fun of me for saying it that way. I dunno.

The calming effects of crayons cannot be underestimated. Give an out-of-control kid a few crayons, and nine times out of ten, that kid will rein it in a notch or two. There is a reason that parents don’t attend church without carrying a supply of crayons and coloring books for their kids to use when they get fidgety. Hey! It just occurs to me that crayons are really kinda the original fidget spinner. Just’ sayin’.

Crayons work the same way with adults. Hence, the plethora of adult coloring books you can buy in almost any store. As adults, we might have exchanged our crayons for markers or colored pencils, but we all know they aren’t as fun as crens. Markers and colored pencils do not carry the same feelings of safety, freedom, boundless creativity, and memory of childhood possibilities. When you hold them in your hand, they don’t feel like that same crayon kind of imagination. Think about it: When we were in our kidhoods, a box of crayons could create AND rule the kingdoms of our minds and hearts.

And if you’re honest with yourself you’ll admit that in your life, few things have made your entire soul happier than when you so proudly gave your mom or dad a crayon drawing, and it ended up posted on the fridge for all to see. That drawing sucked, but it was a family treasure.

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A Bigly Thing To Cover My In-Between Hair

I have to try almost everything, fashion-wise.  Sometimes I try stuff on when I already know I won’t be making it a staple of my wardrobe. Suzanne’s newly purchased sun hat is one of those items. Plaid, purple Bow Tie o’ the Day is rather surprised I took the time and opportunity to put this floppy hat on my head. It is sooooo not anything close to any hat style in my hat quiver. And the size o’ the flop! I don’t even know what to comment about that.

But I’m pleased Suzanne likes the hat well enough to give it a home. This afternoon, I took it upstairs to put it away in the closet for her, and I thought, “Why the Hell-en not at least try it on?” My verdict on this headwear is a thumbs down, as I suspected it would be. On the other hand, I don’t remember a bow tie I’ve put on which I didn’t want to adopt. But if you don’t try on a diversity of styles, you might miss what suits you perfectly. Something unexpected might feel like it accentuates the authentic you.

I’m amazed at how different our like’s and dislike’s can be– whether it’s about fashion, food, pro football teams, and on and on. I can’t explain why our tastes are so all-over-the-place within a circle of friends or within our own families. For example, I’m into neckwear, while most of my peeps prefer jewelry– as far as fashion accessories go. I like to eat only the crust around the edges of a pizza, along with the toppings, while most people eat the entire slice. I’m a decades-long Seattle Seahawks fan. Suzanne rolls with the Chicago Bears.

And there’s no logical reason that any of these things should make us feel one way or the other anyway. Doesn’t the bottom pizza crust taste the same as the edge crust? Why collect things that wrap around your neck? Have I ever even been to Seattle? No.

It’s not just that we differ in our preferences. We sometimes don’t even care about something our best friend can’t live without. My bro-in-law, Gary, thinks Kurt Busch and NASCAR walk on water, and I think, “I’d rather turn right.”

Sometimes our tastes are unexplainable even to ourselves. For example, I like ice cream. I like chocolate chips. I like marshmallows. However, I abhor chocolate chips/shavings/chunks in my ice cream. I can’t abide marshmallows in it either. WTFlip?! I dunno how to figure that one out. I’m fine with a swirl of chocolate syrup in/on my ice cream. I’m fine with marshmallow creme in/on it.

As the cliché says: It is what it is. Such minor things are not worth going to war with oneself– or anybody else– about. Embrace your you-ness, however inexplicable and weird you might be, even to yourself. Your you-ness is what I and Mr. Rogers like about you. 🙃

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Arrow v. Whim? Arrow AND Whim? Arrowhim.

Bow Tie o’ the Day and I are practicing our scary faces for Halloween, even though it’s still September. Clearly, we need to work on more looks o’ horror. We woke up this morning and simply decided we wanted to give in to our whim to wear our orange and black today.

It is said that we should follow our arrows. I agree with that advice. I also believe in indulging our whims, To me, your arrow is usually a big, abstract, directional kind of concept– like where you want to go in your career; how you want your family to be; your personal goals and values.

Whims– on the other hand– are very specific things that add panache and wonder to your life. They should celebrate your individuality and give you singular joy. It’s usually  best if your whims reflect your arrow, but sometimes you need a whim to be so out-there that it knocks your arrow’s arc into a better path than you aimed your arrow in the first place.

Both things matter. I do have to say that, although I’m a dang good see-er o’ the expansive picture o’ The Big Arrow, I’ve become quite wrapped up in committing as many whims as I can at this point in my life. Hey, folks! We’re all running low on years.

The best way I can explain it is that we spend so much of our adulthood making sure we’re following our Big Arrow (family, career, education, etc.), and then at some point we realize our Big Arrow’s traveling just fine without our constant fussing over it. Ain’t really no knockin’ it off its path now. We don’t need to worry quite so much about the trajectory of the Big Arrow we’ve tended so well for years. The aim of our Big Arrow is true. It has become who we are. It is the sum of our lives. We decided its path long ago and adjusted it as needed. We we can now use the auto pilot we’ve achieved through decades of living our Big Arrow. Our autopilot can do its job to get us to our desired cosmological destination.

Now’s the time for whims. We should “whim around.” We should have whimsical attitudes. We should do things in a “whimmerly” way. We should exercise our “whimmers”. We should expand our “whimmerosity.” We should do “whimmerrific” activities. I could continue to come up with oodles more words o’ whimsy– real and made-up. But you get the idea.

I am my own Whim-meister.  You are your own Whim-meister. Play on. 🤡 😜

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Not Speechless

Although mustache Bow Tie o’ the Day isn’t visible– and although this photo is only slightly different from one I already posted in my swimming suit post– this  picture is one of my all-time faves of me. And I don’t like many pics of me at all. But I think this expresses me and my outlook, scrunched into one pic. I think it’s a pretty accurate representation of my attitude as I move through the world. It shows my relationship to the world. Here are some captions I’ve come up with that fit what I see of me in the picture. These are things I can imagine myself saying in this photo. They are words which sorta give you a tiny peek at my philosophies and my life-posture.

  • I love my life this much!
  • Would ya look at this?!
  • Does this swimming suit make my butt look big?
  • Suzanne, this is the exact spot where we’re building a beach house when you retire!
  • Everybody come see this!
  • What do you mean, you forgot the marshmallows for the s’mores?
  • I ain’t goin’ back to work!
  • (When things are tough) Yeah, I’ve got this!
  • (When things are relentlessly tough) Bring it on!
  • (When things are toughest) Is that all you’ve got?
  • Who drank my last Diet Coke?
  • Is all of this picturesque earth just for little ol’ me?
  • (Singing, from the hymn) “The wind and the waves shall obey my will…”
  • I can see forever from here!
  • I can’t believe people would rather start wars than sit on their beach towels together on an ocean beach, around a bonfire, watching sunsets.
  • Wow! I get to have all of this scene’s elegance AND a cool swimming suit!
  • This is photoshopped, right?
  • Hey, wind, water, sky, sun, clouds, sand, swimming suit! Come here and let me give you this big bear hug.

If you’ve got a caption you think captures my spirit in this photo, feel free to share it. I’m curious to know what kinds of things others think I could be saying in this picture.

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Yes, I Am An Actual Grown-Up

Me and Bow Tie o’ the Day, in my sexy swimming suit. September 9, 2018. The beach at sunset, on Dauphin Island, AL. USA.

Ever since I was a kid, I have wanted one of these old timey, 1890’s-era swimming suits. I can’t believe I’ve gone 54 years without getting one. I finally found a place that sells these, but then I had a tough decision to make: Do I buy the green one, the red one, or the blue one? I went with the green.

This style of swimming suit pairs perfectly with a wood, curly-mustache Bow Tie o’ the Day to top it off. The island’s beaches will never recover from experiencing me in my unconventional swimming suit and bow tie. (Excuse the Nike’s I’m wearing on the beach in this photo. I killed one of my flip-flops the day before, and these were the only other shoes I had. Going barefoot on this section of the beach wasn’t an option, cuz of broken seashells.)

One of the perks of being an adult is being able to express your outrageously whimsical side without having to explain what the heck you’re thinking. Some people might want you to explain, but you do not have to. Nobody’s going to ground you. Some people might stare quizzically and otherwise try to figure out your game. But you know that you don’t have a game. You don’t have a lurking reason or ulterior motive to engage in your harmless whim, except that you just want to do it. And I hope you know you don’t need a reason beyond giving yourself some joy.

Life is full of heartaches. Some are beyond your control. Some, you create for yourself. But, ultimately, you are responsible for making your own happiness, no matter your situation. You’re alive, and I hope you’re trying to make your spins around the sun as exhilarating and captivating as possible– for you and for those in your orbit.

I am so pleased with my awesome swimming suit– and the enthusiastic reactions to it– that I’m thinking of designating a day of the week to wearing it everywhere, year-round. Maybe I’ll declare every Wednesday to be Old Timey Swimming Suit Hump Day. And ya know what? That gives me a tidy excuse to buy the swimming suit in the other two colors. You can’t wear the same color of swimming suit every Old Timey Swimming Suit Hump Day, right? Wardrobe, wardrobe, wardrobe!