Category: Ties

After I gifted away this morning’s flag-filled Tie o’ the Day, I was only temporarily without neckwear. Of course, y’all know by now that I have plenty o’ patriotic ties and bow ties to choose from, so it wasn’t a problem to find this Tie o’ the Rest o’ the Day. I wore the “I VOTED” sticker on my forehead until I took this selfie. I made my voting sticker into an eyepatch, so I could be a pirate. Here’s a secret: If I made the rules of life, we’d all have to wear an eyepatch and play pirate at least once a week.

While my “I VOTED” sticker was still on my forehead, this second Tie o’ the Day and I had to scurry to Bountiful for my hearing appointment. I’ve worn a hearing aid in my right ear for almost two years now, and it does its job adequately. But now, I have tinnitus in my left ear which never shuts off its droning. It always sounds like water is running or the AM radio is static-ing in my left ear. If I experience the sound of silence at all, it is when I’m asleep. But that doesn’t count, cuz I’m asleep and don’t know what I am or am not hearing.

Anyhoo… Today at my hearing appointment, Dr. Earlobe—which is what I’ll call him—tested my hearing thoroughly. The good news is that my right ear hasn’t gotten worse since I got my hearing aid. The verdict on the tinnitus is what I knew it would be: I’m stuck with that. Ain’t no cure for the tinnitus, but we can likely manage it a bit. The bad news is that my left ear’s hearing ability is now where my right ear’s hearing was two years ago—way back when I first needed the hearing aid. Yup, I am soon going to be nicknamed Four Ears. In two weeks, I will be wearing hearing aids in both ears.

Look, I’m not griping when I talk about my medical woes o’ aging. I am simply sharing stories with y’all about whatever decrepitude is crepitating on/in my body at any given time. It’s just life. You know as well as I do—if you’re old enough—you will wake up with some new bone creak or varicose vein tomorrow. And tomorrow, and tomorrow,/ Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,/ To the last syllable of recorded time;/ And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!/ Life is but a walking shadow, a poor player/ That struts and frets his hour upon the stage/ And then is heard no more. It is a tale/ Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury/ signifying nothing./

Sorry ’bout that. I guess I went all Macbeth, thinking about how our bodies fall apart on us and how we might as well be zombies with crumbling bodies in our old age. 🤡

BTW See how I managed to write some highfalutin’ Shakespeare into a story about the ringing in my left ear? That felt good. ✍️ 💻 🤓

Flag Tie o’ the Day didn’t know it was going to happen. I didn’t even know it was going to happen. Nevertheless, Tie got adopted! All we were trying to do was vote in the Primaries, and one of the women working in the polling place just completely fell in love with Tie. She thanked me for wearing Tie. The poll worker and I talked briefly about ties and patriotism and voting, and then I took my ballot and cast my vote. Mission completed, I drove home wearing my “I VOTED” sticker on my forehead—which I will wear until the polls close, just in case somebody in my path today needs a reminder to do their civic duty.

But I got to cogitating about the good conversation I had with the poll worker this morning. I got thinking about how we always want the best for our kids. We want them to have all the advantages we can provide. I’m like that with all the little beings in my neckwear collection too. Can you imagine the amazing, patriotic life flaggy Tie could live if it got to be front-and-center at a polling place each and every election? What kind of tie mom would I be if I didn’t make sure Tie could be its best tie self?

So I drove back to my polling place, found the person I had conversed with earlier, and asked her what Tie’s life would be like if I handed Tie over to her. As I suspected, Tie o’ the Day will be worn at any event its new owner finds the least bit patriotic—especially on days when the polls are open. Tie’s new owner was eagerly grateful for the opportunity to give Tie a more stars-and-stripes life than I can. It was difficult for me to say my farewell to Tie, but it is a sacrifice I felt I had to make for Tie’s benefit. I don’t like to admit it, but sometimes a tie o’ mine can have a larger life with someone else.

Lipstick note Tie o’ the Day sets out early to remind you of the lost art of writing love notes. You have to go Old School, folks. Don’t do all that sweet talk through emails or texts. That will not suffice. Find the pencil in your junk drawer. And even though it’s broken in half, has no eraser, and the point is broken off, sharpen that pencil. Use the sorta broken pocketknife that’s also in your junk drawer to whittle it to a proper point. I bet there’s an old receipt or envelope in the junk drawer too, the backs of which have plenty of room for writin’. Scribble out a sincere, handwritten love note. Your person will thank Tie and you bigly that you took the time to write a love note the old-fashioned way. 💌 ❣ 💝💘

I sported my Valentine bear Tie o’ the Day to visit my ear doctor to get my hearing aid tuned up. He changed some filters and adjusted some other hearing aid innards. I don’t know that his work really helped much more than just the tiniest bit. My right ear is on its last leg, and my left ear registers only tinnitus. My hearing is hopeless.

At least I got to stand in front of a poster of an ear and see how I would look if I had an enormous right ear. While my doc was tinkering with my ear gadget, I tried to decipher some of the autographs on my doc’s prized JAZZ basketball. I check it out at every appointment, and I still can’t figure out whose autograph is whose.

If you wanna speak to me and make sure I hear you these days, you probably oughta use at least a cheerleader megaphone, pointed directly at one of my ears—while standing as near to me as you possibly can. I CAN’T HEAR YOU NOW!

I know it’s just my age being age-y, so I’m not really complaining about the normal breaking down of eardrums. It is what it is, as we say. But I am also complaining a bit because I’m having to do a lot of nodding and acting like I know what’s going on around me, when I can’t hear anything but a bloody mumble from anyone. I play like I’ve heard and understood because I do not want to annoy people by asking them to repeat and repeat and repeat what they’ve taken the time to say to me. I trust that Suzanne will drag me aside and loudly alert me if someone says something I absolutely must know. If you hear her yelling at me, don’t be alarmed. We’re fine. She’s just translating for me.