Today, I found some old TIE O’ THE DAY doggie pix, which Skitter and I culled through. The photos were mostly of our late pal, Roxy Lou, posing in Ties and Bow Ties o’ the Day. Skitter and I have lowered our smiles to half-staff since we looked at the photographs. We teared-up a little. FYI When Skitter cries, she hogs the Kleenex.
Suzanne and Skitter and I had to help Roxy go to sleep just over a year ago, and Skitter has been dog-less since then. While Roxy Lou was here, she took the scared, abused Skitter under her wing and taught her how to be a dog. While Roxy was here, I also never had to turn on the vacuum cleaner: Roxy ate anything that fell to the floor, anywhere in the house. It did not have to be food. (We called her Hoover.) That’s how she became the fattest mini dachsie to ever waddle on the face of the planet.
Enjoy these reposted pix of the late Roxy’s modeling, as she appeared in TIE O’ THE DAY. I included a couple of naked-neck pictures too.
Colonel Sanders Tie o’ the Day helped me re-think my baseball caps. Do I really need them, or can I get by with this glued-up visor hairdo? I dunno. My hairs visor seems to be keeping the sun out of my eyes so far today. If I got rid of my hats, I could free up their space in The Tie Room, where I could house more bow ties. But alas! I love my hat collection too, so that’s not gonna happen. There’s room in The Tie Room Resort for all things that wander in.
Small towns are like that, even though we tend to think of them as narrow-minded. A small town will generally set a place for you at its table. Trust me, you will find narrow-minded people anywhere you go. You will find jerks everywhere you go, as well. And if you act like a jerk in a small town, be prepared to lose that place at the table you were so kindly given– as you would deserve to. But most people realize nobody’s perfect, and they’ve got plenty of their own issues to work on. A lot of “mind your own biscuits” combined with even more of “love your neighbor” goes a long way toward allowing you to live like a mature human being among other grown-ups. [Note: The meanings of the aforementioned two sayings are more alike than they seem.]
For example, I’m reminded of a Delta-area woman I knew in my kidhood, who suddenly– out of nowhere, out of character– began to steal. She stole insignificant things from stores, and she didn’t seem to hide what she was doing. A lot of the town knew.
Some people wanted to see her put in jail. Some people wanted to see her face plastered across the front page of the newspaper. She was a wonderful, law-abiding wife, mother, citizen, and church member in all other ways. She wasn’t stealing because she couldn’t afford what she took. And the things she stole were random and unnecessary. It was clear she was suffering from a mental issue. The cops, store owners, and her family had a pow-wow and decided legal action was probably not going to help her. They decided shaming her in THE CHRONICLE wasn’t going to help her or her family. But she couldn’t keep getting away with stealing, without consequences. That this woman was not going to jail bothered a few busybodies who neither minded their own biscuits, nor did they try to help.
Working together to love their neighbor, the group of cops, store owners, and family– including the woman herself– created a plan to get everybody who was involved in the immediate problem what they all needed/wanted. The woman agreed to receive mental health services. The store managers wouldn’t call the cops when they saw her steal, which would free up the cops to deal with more pressing issues. The stores would keep track of what the woman stole, and the husband would pay the bills each month until she got her mental issue taken care of. After months of mending her psyche in therapy, she became well. Nothing “official” was done. A small town of neighbors loved one neighbor enough to solve a strange problem together. A narrow-minded town would not even try to accomplish that.
As with most things in life, you need to find the balance. You need to keep the balance between your biscuits and your neighbors: You have to pay just a smidgen of attention to your neighbors’ biscuits, so you’ll know your neighbors’ struggles. Sometimes that’s the only way you’ll be able to know how to love your neighbors in specific ways that will help sustain them.
I spread the gospel of neckwear. For example, it is my firm belief that if everyone wore a bow tie every day, the world would be a tiny bit kinder and lighter. It is almost impossible to be rude to bow tie-wearin’ folk. Bow ties are too nifty to inspire hate– whether you’re wearing one or looking at someone who’s wearing one. A bow tie is like a wink. An oversized and/or untraditionally shaped bow tie is especially lovable. Neckties can be as charming as bow ties (especially the ties I collect), but ties have the added connotations of words like “work,” “stuffed shirt,” “boss,” “authority,” “uniform,” “formal” and “serious.” Bow ties tend to escape that sort of baggage.
This afternoon’s Tie o’ the Day is here to tell you that one way to lighten up the baggage of neckties is to wear a hat. A cowboy hat works nicely, but almost any hat will do– except the Pope’s hat. His hat doesn’t really make anyone feel like chillin’ out. In my opinion, baseball caps are the top choice of hat to pair with neckties because they are casual and reminiscent of youth, play, and sunshine. They’re also cheap, which means you can own a billion of them. And I assure you that clashing a tie with your wardrobe get-up crumbles the seriousness of ties too.
In fact, the main point of clash fashion is to remind you that you do not have to dress like everyone else. If you like solid colors, muted colors, matching, or uniforms, etc., that’s ok– if it really is your style. Your solitary fashion job is to look like you. Don’t dress like everybody else just because you think you’re supposed to: express your soul. Flex your soul. Experiment. You just might find that your soul looks like a purple-and-green paisley shirt, camo shorts, and a matador hat. (Ooooh, I’ll have to try that. It sounds like a fun-a-roo get-up!) Be ye not afraid of showing your soul in your attire.
Try it. The more you truly resemble your authentic self, the more you will feel at home in the life you’re living. And that’s exactly where you should feel at home, since it’s exactly where you always are. Seems quite obvious, eh?
Do you really think I always knew I would be dressing like I dress at age fifty-damn-five; that I’d be wearing at least two ties/bow ties per day; that I’d be taking infinite selfies o’ me and my neckwear; and that I’d be writing a blog about whatever my day’s neckwear inspires? I didn’t know this is what my soul looks like until I tried a few dozen different styles and modes of living over the decades. I experimented until I met my soul. Now, my style pretty much reflects my soul, and I can live in accordance with my soul’s values. And look at me now! I’m still not famous. Yet. But I am not homesick for my true soul– which I was for much of my life.
I was scrolling through my TIE O’ THE DAY media gallery, and I discovered some photos I hadn’t yet posted. These are from my grandnephew’s wedding reception, which was held a few weeks ago. Tie o’ the Evening is my go-to wedding tie, which I wear to all the hitchin’ celebrations I attend.
The joyous couple is Jayden Champneys and his wife, Payton. Let me say this about them: Hottest. Couple. Ever. I am not exaggerating. There are two men who Mom can never talk about without commenting on their handsome-idity, and they are Jayden and LDS Apostle Dieter F. Uchtdorf. Mention Jayden to Mom, and the first thing she says is “Oh, he is so handsome.” Mention Dieter F. Uchtdorf and Mom says, “It’s so nice to finally have a nice looking General Authority to look at during Conference, instead of those old fossils up on the stand.” (Trust me, she loves them all.)
[FYI Mom also refers to the Utah State Legislators as “those old fossils,” who need to be voted out of office as soon as possible. If Mom has an opinion, she will be sure you know what it is. But you probably already know she shares her thoughts, because you’ve most likely heard an opinion or two of hers– whether you wanted to or not.]
Anyhoo…By getting married, Jayden and Payton have committed themselves, not just to each other, but to the most complex relationship in existence. According to marriage statistics, the odds are against them spending the entirety of the rest of their lives together. It is not a reflection on them and their love. It is simply a fact of our culture.
To take on the extraordinary commitment of marriage is a testament to Jayden’s and Payton’s hope and faith in the power of love, and in their optimism about their future. Love is, by its very nature, a formidable optimism. Love also contains an integral strain of stupid. When two people merge and commit to a lifetime (or time and all eternity, as is said in LDS culture) of facing the world together– for and with each other–, it demonstrates a healthy kind of naivete. That is not a bad thing. We need to be unaware of the difficulty of some ventures– like marriage, or having children.
If we knew the struggles and pain of taking proper care of spouses and kids, most of us would be too frightened to pair up. There is a lot of heartache involved in caring about people to whom we give our whole hearts. And for that reason, it’s good to be stupid about the complex realities of making a family. We commit to someone and– despite and because of the difficulties– we eventually grow insight and wisdom about nurturing a lasting relationship. If we pay attention, we gradually get un-naive. We eventually get un-stupid. We get better at growing the kind of love that can beat the odds. A daring stupidity is necessary to a successful and enduring marriage.
My Bolo/Tie o’ the Day combo is one of my fave clever ties. I thought it was quite a fitting choice to wear home from our Tucson/Las Vegas trip– Western theme and all. Sometimes I wear appropriate things. Sometimes, I can choose clothing and neckwear that “match” my situation. Not often, but on occasion. Most of the time it makes me feel oogy and itchy to blend in, or match, or fit in– whatever you wanna call it. It ain’t my true soul.
In this photo, I sit outside the SLC airport, waiting for the shuttle bus to take us to our faithful car at the end of our traipsing to and fro. My minutes-new saddle purse is in the orange bag. (I know, I know. I still owe y’all the purse story post. It’s coming.) I didn’t want to show off the purse in this particular photo, cuz its stunningness would have taken attention away from Tie. Tie deserves to shine in its own spotlight.
I’m quite proud of my magenta suitcase. It is designed to be extra lightweight, and I got it soon after my surgery so it would be a little easier for me to maneuver and heft through airports. Of course, on our first couple of post-surgery trips, Suzanne lugged everything for me anyway– so I guess it was nice of me to provide her a lighter suitcase in which to haul my stuff. I’m so thoughtful.
Although we have at least four concerts to attend in the next few months, they are in Utah. We don’t have any travel on our schedule for the near future. And I’m ok with that. I can drive down to visit Mom more often. And I’ve got stuff to do here. I do not consider myself a “real” homemaker (although I guess I am), but I am a homebody. Suzanne is too.
Suzanne sits in one of two spots in the house when she’s home. She sits in either the loveseat or in front of her Ultimate SewingBox. She’s pretty much a statue. She sits motionless, except for her hands. They never stop crocheting, sewing, piecing quilts together, etc. Her body sits still the entire evening, but she accomplishes oodles of craftiness with her paws. She creates constantly. She has a ton to show for her not moving.
I, on the other hand, flit and flutter around the house constantly. I call it “birding.” I “bird” around. I never light. I don’t know if I accomplish anything or not, but I haven’t yet heard Suzanne tell me– or tell anyone else– I’m a useless waste o’ space.
I really have nothing to show for all my Tasmanian-Devil-around-the-house movements. It is true that the ties are hung snuggly in their closets, and the bow ties are safely tucked into their card catalog drawers– a dozen per drawer. At the end of the day, the neckwear is always clean, fed, and put to bed. I guess that counts as doing something. And it is also true that I have somewhere in the neighborhood of 200 notebooks/journals full of poems and stories I’ve conjured up over the years. That should count as something. Also, I keep Skitter pottied. I guess that’s something that shows. Or it’s something that doesn’t show, if you wanna look at it that way.
If you’ve been a regular reader of TIE O’ THE DAY for a few years, I’m sure you’ve been looking forward to today’s Tie o’ St. Patrick’s Day annual photo. I snapped it when Mom was staying with us in Centerville three years ago. She donned this hat and tie and joined in with us and the festive neckwear for our St. Pat’s Day celebration. Since then, I have posted this photo annually on this green beer, corned-beef-and-cabbage, Irish holiday. This picture is– and always will be– THE post’s St. Paddy’s Day snapshot. Mom is my favorite leprechaun.
If you’ve ever experienced my mother in person, you can imagine this fact: Mom was cool before the word “cool” was even invented. No matter how cool I might be, I will always be cool in Mom’s magnificent coolness shadow. I love her. She’s the first earthly blessing I ever got.
My bigly Bow Tie o’ the Day and Skitter’s Tie o’ the Day gather together to wish y’all a Merry St. Patrick’s Day Eve! Silly Hat o’ the Day adds a dash of extra panache.
I intentionally do not have the Facebook app on my phone. I also intentionally do not have the administrative/editing capabilities of the TIE O’ THE DAY website set up on my phone. When I’m out and about and away, there’s no way I can post a darn thing until I get back to my laptop at the hotel. That’s exactly how I want it. If I’m doing something, I don’t want to even be tempted to stop in mid-activity and write a post that comes to mind about it. I do not want to miss doing the next thing or the next thing, etc. cuz my head is in my phone, posting about what already happened– at the expense of what I’m doing right now. I post about my life, but I want to live it first. Having experiences is primary. Making my experiences into stories and observations and sermons is secondary.
In Las Vegas, while out gallivanting around the Strip with Suzanne, I ran into four bow tie products I didn’t buy– although one of them caused me stop in the middle of the path through the mall of shops, in which we found ourselves. And I mean STOP. Upon seeing the luggage shown in the photo, I became a mute statue. All I could do was point. I so wanted this set of bow tie luggage. But I will have to start a GO FUND ME account if I’m going to buy it– unless any of y’all have $3000 just sitting around in a cookie jar, and are willing to fork it over so I can buy something I don’t even need.
I could have afforded the hat shown in one of these pix, but it just didn’t strike me as something I’d wear.
The same is true of the bow tie necklace. It was affordable. It has good bling, and yet it was somehow too “plain” for my taste.
Now, the tie-design necklace Suzanne is modeling was downright hideous to behold. Even Suzanne couldn’t make it okay to look at. No way was I gonna wear that object of not-art. And you know darn well that I will generally wear anything. That should prove how wrong this necklace looked.
When I am traveling– out discovering things and having experiences– I am never on the search for neckwear products. But I can’t help it if I run into pertinent objects occasionally. It’s true that when I do come across some tie/bow tie thing, I consider what I could do with it, or write about it, in a post. Rarely, do I postpone my immediate plans in order to stop and acquire it. Neckwear doo-dads are beauteous, but they don’t compare to the joy of fully participating in the adventures– bigly or small– of your own life. That’s how you build a life. You can write about what you did later– when you get home.
Bigly gratitude for the birthday greetings y’all took the time to send my way yesterday. You make a girl o’ many ties and bow ties feel important. Y’all da bomb! I’m blessed to have big-hearted friends and readers. And I’m blessed to be fifty-damn-five.
For my Sabbath birthday, I donned balloons Bow Tie o’ the Day; sugar skeletons Cape o’ the Day; paw prints Sloggers Garden Shoes o’ the Day; and “Best. Life. Ever” Cufflinks o’ the Day. What a Day o’ the Day! And, no, your eyes are not playing tricks on you: I gave in and bought my airport saddle purse, which I call the Purse o’ My Life. I call it that because I’ve never had a purse before, and I will probably never buy another one. Once I saw the saddle purse, I could not move forward in my life without it. (I will write a post about the saddle purse saga, which I have already titled in my mind: A Tale O’ Two Purses.)
Suzanne took me to birthday brunch at BISTRO, in the SLC Avenues. I was pleased trout was on their menu. There’s nothing better than trout and eggs. Later, Suzanne made me a German chocolate birthday cake. We fully intended to invite Suzanne’s parents over to have a piece, but somehow the cake went mostly missing as soon as it got frosted. Oops! Doh!
I debated between actually going to brunch, or just sleeping in. We got home from our travels Saturday, and we were still beat. Sleeping in was only a brief thought for me though. Suzanne had made birthday brunch reservations, and I decided I better take advantage of that– since one year she completely forgot my birthday even existed. Poor Suzanne. Her sin of forgetfulness happened nearly two decades ago, and I still harass her about it every year. And for the past five years, I’ve done it in this public forum. It’s obvious I forgave her, and we can guffaw about her little faux pas. I razz her annually about it with gratitude and adoration for each and every OTHER day we’ve been together.
Bow Ties o’ the Day are each vying for me to select them for our Tucson/Vegas trip tomorrow. It’s a cacophony of bow tie voices around here today as each one is begging, “Me, me! Take me!”
I’m sure those of you who have had kids remember the times you were leaving them home with a sitter and they clung to your neck or your legs with every ounce of their strength, pleading with you to either not go at all or to take them with you. That’s how every piece of neckwear in The Tie Room is acting this morning while I pack. I feel like Meryl Streep in SOPHIE’S CHOICE. I’m stuck deciding something that will injure tie/bow tie feelings, no matter what I choose. The weeping and wailing The Skit will hear emanating from The Tie Room for a week will be tough on her.
I pack mostly bow ties to accompany me on travel adventures. Neckies tend to easily get in the way when you are sightseeing or otherwise exploring. Think about it: hiking, walking, tramming can be dangerous with a tie blowing around or possibly getting caught in machinery or roller coaster cars.
Flying with bow ties, however, has a downside too. Although you don’t have to worry about a bow tie getting in the way while you wear it, you have to pack them in individual boxes, so they don’t get smashed in your suitcase. That means they take up a lot of space. For example, I will be gone 7 days, which means I need to take at least 14 pieces of neckwear, since I usually post twice per day. That leaves a shortage of space for clothing in my carry-on bag. And I only travel with a carry-on– and my laptop bag. I refuse to pay $30 to check a suitcase. Heck, you might see photos of me wearing the same clothes every time I post a pic this week. But I won’t be wearing the same neckwear in each post. That’s not how I roll. Or fly, or see the sights.
