Weirdest. X-mas. Card. Ever.

I spent most of the 90’s teaching Creative Writing in an arts-centered middle school in inner-city Baltimore, MD. If you’ve seen the HBO series THE WIRE, then you have a pretty good idea what it was like where I taught. Poorest part of the city. Highest crime rate in the city. Highest murder rate in the country during some of the years I taught there. A 70 percent unemployment rate for adult black males in the city. Almost 100 percent of my students lived in public housing. Almost 100 percent of my students qualified for free lunch and breakfast, as well as free bus passes. Probably half of the students I taught had been passed along year after year in elementary school, without learning to really read. Even literacy was impoverished on the west side of Baltimore.

All my students were black, and I am the whitest white person ever to walk the planet. As I’m writing this, I can think of a thousand stories of my Baltimore adventures y’all might find interesting. For a long time, I couldn’t talk about my exploits there to anyone but Suzanne. Let’s just say teaching in an inner-city public school is not the best job to have if you are bipolar. And boy, am I bipolar! But I think I can talk about it now, so I’ll make a point to share Balto stories in the future.

But for now, suffice it for me to say that one of my 6th Grade students drew and colored this fine picture as a Christmas card to me, in 1994. His name was Deonte, and he gave it to me with such pride. He truly meant it to represent joyful holiday wishes for me, even though it more accurately represented his deadly neighborhood. I have treasured its unique perspective for all these 25 years.

I share this “Christmas card” with you here, with one of my A CHRISTMAS STORY Bow Ties o’ the Day. I still remember when Deonte handed me the picture as I was leaving the school building for Christmas break. When I saw it for the very first time, all I could think of was, “You’ll shoot your eye out!”

In A Pinch

SnHOman Tie o’ the Day is here with a bit of fashion accessory advice. If you find yourself at a Christmas party, and you realize you forgot to wear your holiday earrings, simply mosey up to the nearest decorated X-mas tree. “Borrow” a couple of ornaments, and VOILA!— you’re all set. In fact, I think I’ll start a fashion trend by doing this sort of thing on purpose. I suggest replacing the “borrowed” “jewelry” before exiting the party at the end of the evening. You don’t want to end up being escorted to jail in “bracelets” when the party’s over.

BTW You can never have enough leg lamp-themed trinkets.

I’m Super Close To Suzanne’s Fabric Scissors

But Bow Tie o’ the Day and I are not touching Suzanne’s holy fabric scissors. They are right behind me, next to the sewing machine in Suzanne’s Ultimate SewingBox. I’m not touching them. I’m not thinking about touching them. I’m certainly not using them to cut anything. I’m not even looking at them straight on. I only look at them with my peripheral vision. I would never even snap a photo of them. The flash might disturb them in their precious fabric scissor sleep. And I sure as heck don’t get this close to ’em if Suzanne’s in the room. That would make her too nervous. But do you know what’s funny? Suzanne had no problem with me holding the fabric scissors when I stood in line at JOANN to pay for them.

The Incredible Ho. Ho, Ho.

I’m full to the brim with the whole Christmas PEACE-LOVE-JOY spirit. In fact, about two seconds after I snapped this photo, I was hit with a jolt of goodwill to all which was so intense that my celebratory emotions physically overcame me— causing the seams of my clothing to burst apart and the fabric to rip. Meanwhile, my body turned an effervescent hue of X-mas green. To compose myself, I had to escape the clamoring Dick’s Market crowd, and so I ran home, red-faced, in my green body, tattered clothes, and massive spirit of love for all humanity— proudly waving my NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS Tie o’ the Day behind me.

Must’ve Been A Bad, Bad Dream

Admit it. It’s happened to you too. Sometimes you just roll out of bed looking like this, and you and your Ties o’ the Day have no earthly idea what you did last night. My advice is to just start apologizing to anyone and everyone who might have been a witness, right from the get-go.

Mother And Child

Dad went to the bigly coyote hunt in the sky on December 4, 2007. We laid him deep in his Delta dirt four days later, on December 8. And a week after that, on the evening of December 15, a bunch of our family donned our pajamas for a ride on the Polar Express, in Heber. My oldest sister, Betty (Mercedes, to me), and her eternal hubby, Kent, had planned the family Polar Express ride long before Dad’s death. It was to be a humongous family celebration of their 40th wedding anniversary. And so it was. Our grieving family was very much in need of something to celebrate. Train Bow Tie o’ the Day honors that healing outing.

This is one of the dearest photos I snapped on our Polar Express adventure. In the photo, Betty is clearly listening to Mom’s deep sorrow about Dad’s passing. Mom was now alone in a way not even a large, loud family could completely fill. Betty comforted Mom. And I have no doubt Mom comforted Betty. Grief is an awkward, homely thing. But it provides an opportunity for us to create beautiful responses to those who ache. In this way, sorrow can be transformed into beauty. I see such beauty here.

Things Change. Not Really.

It happened: Suzanne left me. And I’m buying alcohol. It’s all true. But it’s only true in the sense that Suzanne left me to spend the weekend in Mesquite with her Champagne Garden Club Girls, for their annual Christmas bash. Spouses were invited, but my stoopid bipolar brain needed a quiet weekend at home. Sometimes it’s too people-y out in the world— even when they’re my fave people. Suzanne will be back home tomorrow.

And it’s also true I’m buying alcohol, but I have not tumbled off the proverbial wagon. I’m stocking up for Suzanne. I noticed her wine stash is depleted, and replenishing the wine inventory is part of my housewifery jobs. She’s not a bigly drinker, so I only have to make a liquor store run 3-4 times a year. I figured I should stock up ASAP since it’s so close to Christmas, which means exponentially growing herds, gaggles, bands, covens, and crowds at the liquor store with each passing day. I can now cross the “intoxicating spirits” errand off my list until probably February.

The photos show— among other things— how the weather changed on me while I was in the liquor store. It wasn’t snowing when I arrived, but it was dropping snow pellets on me and pine-cone-and-holly Bow Tie o’ the Day a few minutes later when I got back into Vonnegut Grace Vibe. The snow “storm” lasted exactly 45 seconds and caused 1 wreck in the parking lot. This is Utah, people! Snow happens. It is not a sign of the apocalypse. Just slow down. Pay attention. Panic is not required.

In the liquor store, I also snapped pix of some amusing beverages I ran across but had no reason to buy. We here at TIE O’ THE DAY thought you’d be amused too.

There Is No Limit

Snowy, sweater-y Bow Tie o’ the Day is part of an ensemble which is representative of my clash fashion philosophy, in general: There can be no such thing as “too much” clash-action going on in the outfit you wear— especially during the Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa season. Joy to the world, my clothing won’t match! During the holiday season, one must dress like a succotash medley of holiday cultural icons, with a dollop of silly commercialism— while always remembering what is known as “the reason for the season.”

Skitter’s Merry Pad

Skitter is looking dreamy in her flannel Bow Tie o’ the Day, as she lounges somewhat seductively around her own personal Charlie Brown Christmas tree— in her own personal living room townhouse. She’s looking dapper and cozy in her digs. She’s got a Dean Martin aura of smooth coolness going on. I feel like I should dress Skitter a tuxedo. I feel like I should mix her a dirty hot toddy, and set up a bigly, clunky microphone in front of her so she can croon holiday carols to us as we wrap presents and experience our own asinine people dramas.

Gee. I just realized I want to live in Skitter’s crate and be spoiled by me.