What a day! You know it’s true that I like to have escapades, but today’s goings-on didn’t make me all that joyous– despite my festive Bow Ties o’ the Day and Ties o’ the Day.
The “swear” word I heard my dad use when something broke, or otherwise went wrong, was BALLS. And then he would apologize to me for saying it. He was not a regular profanity guy, but I do know he swore a bit. I once observed Mom help him walk around in their house after his heart surgery, to get his strength up. He was in bigly pain. His pain was such that he said BALLS every other step, and promptly apologized to Mom each time for doing it. With each other step, he would say real swear words. Again, he would immediately apologize to Mom after saying each one. It was as if all the swear words had a last name and it was SORRY. Mom didn’t fuss about it. In fact, a couple of years after that, she had a similar heart surgery, and the tables turned. When Dad helped Mom walk, she did not say BALLS in response to her pain with each footstep. But she did utter a few of the more minor swear words– SHIT being her go-to.
When I went to my shoulder specialist a couple of days ago, he prescribed me physical therapy for my stoopid rotator cuff. Off I went to my initial PT appointment at 7 damn AM today. I knew therapy would amp up the pain that’s already killing me. And I already know PT will not work. Been there, done that years ago. But I have to jump though this PT hoop in order to convince my insurance I need the expensive scope procedure I already know I need. I will do what AETNA tells me to do. I’m blessed to be able to afford health insurance, so if I have to jump through a hoop or two, I will say the proverbial, “How high?”
My shoulder felt mostly not-worse as I left the physical therapist’s office, but when I turned the key in the car ignition… a new OUCH! But it got much worse. I could barely put the car in drive. Another new OUCH, followed by a swear word or two. I am not a swearer, but the bad words just flowed. I haven’t been able to drive my Hombre for weeks already, cuz it’s a stick. What the flip will I do if I can’t drive Vonnegut Grace Vibe?
I managed to drive home safely. Sorta. I was driving along minding my own beeswax a block from home, singing my lungs out to BAND OF HORSES… And then the red and blue lights lit up. Long story short, I got a speeding ticket. I have never gotten a speeding ticket in my entire existence, and that includes the Pre-existence! It was one of those speeding tickets that was on the ticket/warning fence. 32 mph in a 25. I hoped for a warning. I’m not angry about getting the ticket, cuz I did the crime. And I love me my police officers. However, I am ticked off at myself for paying more attention to my howling singing and my yowling rotator cuff than to Vonnegut Grace’s speedometer. Mostly, I am disappointed that the cameras from LivePD weren’t with my cops. Being on LivePD is one of my life’s dreams. (BTW It took two cops to deal with my dangerous law-breaking.)
I began cogitating about the powers of neckwear after I got home. When I got pulled over, I was wearing the silvery Christmas balls Tie o’ the Day you see in the photo. If I had been wearing a bow tie– holiday bow tie or not– I have no doubt it would have nudged the cop to be satisfied with giving me only a warning, instead of a speeding citation. Bow ties are like that. They make onlookers melt. They soften the heart. Bow ties catch people by surprise. I will no longer wear any neckwear but a bow tie when I drive. And it also might help if I don’t speed.
HOLIDAY TIE TALLY: 55 Bow ties. 108 Neckties.