Witty & Wise Ties, Trivia & Lies
Major Award Bow Tie o’ the Day—in conjunction with a weird piece of wood I once found, and just can’t part with—is here with a Major Announcement: The wearin’ o’ the holiday neckwear begins now! Between now and the new year, I will attempt to wear every holiday tie and bow tie in my collection. Wish me luck, folks.🎄
TIE O’ THE DAY sends a bigly Merry Birthday greeting to Suzanne’s mom, Geraldine. She turned 80 a few days ago. As my family did with Mom’s 90th birthday in September, Suzanne’s family kept it safe: no party. Instead, we all secretly grooved-up our cars and created a surprise birthday parade for the Mrs. Claus look-alike, right in front of her house. Our decorated cars circled the block twice, horns honking, probably annoying the neighborhood with our celebratory exuberance. After our second lap, we halted our parade in front of the house, got out of our cars, and sang “Happy Birthday” to Geri. To be honest, I only whisper-sang. I love Geri far too much to belt out a song at her with my questionable voice, even as part of a chorus—especially on her 80th birthday.
I’ve been trying to remember my first interaction with Suzanne’s mom, and my brain can trace it to 1985, when I couldn’t afford a haircut. Suzanne offered up her mom’s services, and Geri cut my head hairs as I sat on a chair behind their former house.
Mom has always said that she was blessed to have two wonderful mothers in her life: her own, and her mother-in-law. I knew what she meant, but I didn’t fully understand it in my heart until I got Geri.
BTW Please note that Skitter wore her tie for the parade. Look closely, and you’ll see her and her Tie o’ the Day in the car.
FYI A hug-less birthday sucks for everybody.
And Tie o’ the Day and I continue to flip from news channel to news channel, so I can hear a multitude of commentaries about the current state o’ the vote-counting. Here’s my analysis: Some television talking heads do not reside anywhere near a place called Logic-ville. I’m interested in those takes too, though. Seriously, I am intrigued by why people think what they think—no matter how near or far from Logic-ville they take off their boots. I like to listen to the journey their reasoning takes to get them to where they are, in terms of their political bent. I said it in slightly different words yesterday: I am a political nerd. But I am a political nerd in a tie.
I’m enthralled with all the twists and speed bumps of elections. Skitter and I have been flipping through channels, following the melodrama of vote-counting from oodles of different political bents. We, here at TIE O’ THE DAY, are remaining relatively calm and patient, confident that the United States of America will survive intact—no matter who ends up driving the bigly bus. I am confident of it because it is we, the people, who are the country.
Besides, waiting a few days for election results is a cinch. In 2000, Grandma Anderson was living at the Sands. She was 91. She had fallen there one day, breaking both a hip and a shoulder. When she was released from the hospital a few weeks after her tumble, she returned to her little apartment in the Sands, but she needed constant care. She was waiting for a spot to open up for her in the care center, where she could have 24-hour, trained care for the rest of her life. But until the care center had room for her, someone from the family was always on duty in her apartment to tend to her needs. I stayed with her most nights.The Gore/Bush election took place that November. A few days after the election, Grandma began asking me who our new president was. I explained that Gore got the most votes, but Bush was most likely going to be the President. Try explaining the Electoral College and “hanging chads” to your grandma when she’s 91. And soon I had to explain why the Supreme Court was involved in the decision, and so on.
Every night, I’d go to Grandma’s for our sleeping party so I could be there if she needed something. Usually, she just needed a bowl of Cheetos. Every morning, almost the first question out of Grandma was, “Do we have a President yet?” And every evening when I showed up for our sleepover, her question was, “Do we have a president yet?” That went on for oh-so-many mornings and evenings. I was getting a bit irritated with the question, as well as with the whole president-in-limbo thing.
Weeks after the 2000 election, on December 12, when I showed up for my “Grandma shift,” I burst through the door and said, “Grandma, don’t even ask! We finally have a president!” When she asked who it was, I said, “The Supreme Court says it’s George Bush.” She thought about it a minute, then said, “Didn’t we have one of those already?” My thoughts exactly. So I had to do some more explaining to Grandma Anderson. I loved her so.
FYI I took this selfie at my hearing aid appointment this morning. Diagnosis: I can’t hear anything I don’t want to hear. 😉
Constitution Face Mask o’ the Day and starry, stripey Bow Tie o’ the Day will be watching election results with me throughout the evening, because Suzanne is working late—and I cannot watch scary things when I’m alone.🤡 (Skitter is too scared to watch at all.)
One of my three minors in college at Weber State was Political Science. I’ve always been drawn to understanding how government works, and how it can work better for citizens. I briefly toyed with the idea of becoming a political speechwriter back when I was a young whippersnapper. But, even waaaay back then, I knew that when bigly money is involved, respectable politicians are few-and-far-between, and I did not want to take the chance of having to spend my time writing lofty, lying speeches for slickster candidates to spew forth into a microphone. Nope. Political speechwriting wasn’t my true calling. Instead, I was called to do something else. I still don’t know exactly what that “something else” is yet. The older I get, the less I know. Knowing that I know less—that’s called wisdom. And it’s my wisdom that made sure I voted in the 2020 General Election long before any and all voting deadlines.
See ya on the flip-side of the bigly VOTE, my pals!
If ever a day requires a cape, Election Day is surely such a day. As Americans, we have the amazing gift of being able to vote for what we want our future to look like. In my opinion, too many eligible voters don’t utilize this mighty little superpower. Voting is a right, and every right carries with it a bigly thing called responsibility. It is my personal pet peeve that people are so quick to yap about others encroaching on their rights, but then conveniently ignore their own responsibilities for being knowledgeable and civil.
If you’ve already voted, you have my thanks. If you haven’t already voted, please do. It’s your right as an American citizen. It is also your responsibility as an American citizen. If you feel like your vote doesn’t count, you’re only right about that if you don’t vote. See how that works? If you vote, your vote is counted; therefore, you count. You’re a part of shaping this country’s future. Sounds cheesy, I know, but I’m not wrong. Don’t stand on your country’s sidelines. You aren’t being asked to die for your country today. You’re simply being asked to use a dark pen to fill-in some bubbles on a sheet of paper.
Finally, in the midst of this election’s overly contentious, uncivil, hullabaloo, please remember to be kind to those who don’t cast their votes for your candidates. Please don’t belittle, bully, or injure another citizen in an attempt to make them vote differently than their own conscience demands. And don’t try to keep others from casting their votes. If you see any of those things happening, it is your duty as an American citizen to step in and stop it. All of that behavior is childish, unnecessary, and just plain bad manners. And I cannot believe that in 2020, some of my beloved country’s grownups still have to be reminded to be nice and play fair with their citizen-neighbors.
End of sermon. Thanks for reading.
I’ve been working on a secret thing that I can’t talk about until tomorrow. Rest assured it has nothing to do with the election. It is difficult for me to get the election off my mind, even so. When my brain implodes due to all the political noise, I go silent. I do. I shut up. Tie o’ the Day and masked Face Mask o’ the Day, however, are always there to do my talking for me. They express my Election Eve feelings so very well. 😱
Bow Tie o’ the Day and I thought it was a no-brainer. I woke up Halloween morning with a gruesome, icky zit on my chin, so I decided it could be my costume: I would be a teenager for the festivities. Zit + attitude = teenager! Easiest. Costume. Ever.
The pandemic Halloween around our house began ominously. When I turned on the tv to the morning news, reports of Sean Connery’s death were rampant. That meant the pictures of Sean Connery were also rampant. Since he and Dad were doppelgängers, the pix of Sir Sean Connery kept reminding me of Dad, which made me extra-miss him.
On top of sprouting a zit and missing Dad all day, we had a grand total of 1 Trick-or-Treater knock. By the time I put on my mask and gloves and grabbed the candy dish, the poor ghoul was already gone when I finally opened the front door. I was glad when Halloween was over. Fortunately, there’s plenty of candy left over for me to munch on. The zit continues to be an unwelcome guest.
[From Halloween season, 2017.]
Bow Tie o’ the Day loves word-play as much as I do. We tend to create clever, silly costumery instead of scary outfits. When our troops were knee-deep in Iraq in the 2000’s, I wore this costume for a Halloween or two. The phrase “The War in Iraq” was omni-present on tv and radio then. To create this party get-up, I simply morphed that phrase into THE WAR IN MY RACK costume. (Note: This is not any kind of political commentary, although my heart is always with our troops.)
BTW Ancient birthday salutations on this 30th of October to my niece, Mimi Tucker, who is my Mini-me—my doppelgänger. You’re yet another tough ol’ Wright broad, following a famous/infamous tradition. We love yer feisty, funny guts, Amanda Jo!
Tie o’ the Day and I will wear anything (almost) at any time (almost). It’s sort of my job to do so. The clashier, the better. The more you-can’t-look-away-even-though-it-kinda-freaks-out-your-eyes, the better. I know I’m dressed like my true self if my attire incites at least one of two things: a chuckle, and/or a conversation—even if the conversation is with yourself. I am ecstatic when both goals are met in a tblog post, simultaneously. That’s why I make the bigly bucks, folks. I am really just a very uncomplicated, complicated chick with a brimming Tie Room.