A Skull Is Necessary

Tie o’ the Day presents its skulls, and Cufflinks o’ the Day do the same. We’re all getting ready for the end of Breast Cancer Awareness Month and Halloween. Tomorrow we wrap up our pink and orange and black. It’s not like we won’t wear these colors again until next October, but we won’t be wearing them with such symbolic importance. We wish you a merry Halloween on the morrow!

Anyhoo…  I was grocery shopping at Dick’s this morning, and Tie had a couple of conversations with its fans. Lisa, the pharmacist at Dick’s, especially had to acknowledge Tie. She even asked if she could touch it. Fake spookiness, like Tie’s skulls, is what Halloween is all about. We don’t want no real spookiness.

I am not a bigly sushi gal, but while I was at the Dick’s meat counter, I picked up some squid salad, which is yummy even though its squidness might spook some people. And what was sitting right beside my squid salad in the meat case? Octopus salad, which had never been in there before. I bought a teeny-weeny bit of it to try, but I haven’t tried it yet. I’m waiting for Suzanne to be home when I taste it, just in case I choke on it and need the Heimlich Maneuver. I’ll certainly let you know how eating octopus tentacles goes.

Meanwhile, Skitter and I are deciding on our costumes for Trick-or-Treating tomorrow. Skitter has mostly settled on hers. I, on the other hand, can’t decide between a slew of costume ideas. Do I go with a scary costume? Do I go with a clever one? Or do I go with something silly? Inevitably, a tie or two will show up, no matter which costume vibe I choose. Perhaps the neckwear will wear costumes. Ya never know.

Our Last ABQ Sight

Bow Tie o’ the Day breathed the high air with us at Sandia Peak, in the mountains on the outskirts of Albuquerque.

We live in mysteries. Things we do not understand, and will never figure out, surround us. One of the mysteries I live with is Suzanne’s strange motion sickness parameters. She gets nauseous on a jetway. She gets nauseous on some– but not all– elevators. She gets nauseous on a plane if she isn’t wearing her anti-nausea patch. She cannot sit anywhere but in the front seat of a moving vehicle– preferably as the driver, which is tricky when she’s on a bus or train. At amusement parks, she can’t go on any rides that move in circles or turn upside down. But she CAN ride most roller coasters. And she CAN apparently ride a dangling tram up the mountains for 2.7miles, to the top of Sandia Peak. Explain that. Even Suzanne is unable to solve the nonsensical mysteries of which movements make her motion-sick and which don’t. We just accept these parameters as facts of her equilibrium existence. I was simply glad she could ride the tram with me.

Aside from the afore-posted fabric store, Sandia Tramway was the only other ABQ sight Suzanne experienced. She was content with those two adventures. As tremendous as the view from the peak was, it’s a sure bet that Suzanne’s fave thing about Sandia Tramway was at the foot of the tram. It was the touristy gift shop. How do I know this? Because she found four pairs of earrings. How do I know this? Because when I made my purchases there, I discovered I was paying for four pairs of earrings that magically appeared out of nowhere in my items at check-out. What did yours truly find at the gift shop? A hat and a pair of hot air balloon-covered cufflinks. Gift shops are a cheesy, cheapy rip-offs, but they are fun rip-offs.

I, unfortunately, ran out of time and did not make it to the place that I’m positive would have been my fave: Tinkertown Museum. Tinkertown Museum is a collection of one man’s lifetime of whittling projects– thousands of miniatures, dioramas, and animated scenes. Doesn’t that sound like my kind o’ folk art? I was not impressed with Albuquerque, as a whole. If I’d been lucky enough to have had time to see Tinkertown Museum, I wouldn’t care to return. But there is no way on the planet that I won’t go back someday just to go to Tinkertown Museum.

I can envision it now: One day, after Suzanne is off to work for the day, I hop on a morning flight to ABQ; spend a few hours being enthralled by some dead guy’s whittling collection; then fly back to SLC– in time to potty Skitter and make dinner. Suzanne wouldn’t have a clue that I’d even been out of the house. C’mon, you know it’s the kind of thing I would do, if only to be able to write a post about it.