Category: Ties

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Sunglasses And I Are Old Enough To Be Official Classics

Bow Tie o’ the Day and Ties o’ the Day are undisputed evidence that if you are decking yourself out for the Christmas holidays, besides donning a festive tie or two, you must wear shades in order to be sufficiently holiday-hip. Apparently, according to one tie, if you’re a snowman you don’t have to follow the sunglass fashion trend, despite being surrounded by be-sunglassed associates.

Of course, because Mom wears her shades 23 and 1/2 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days per year, I’ve already posted a few photos of her expressing that fashion trend. I actually think she may have started the indoor wearin’ o the sunglasses. Don’t blame that fashion development on hipsters and gangstas. Wearing shades indoors was likely one of Mom’s many fashion innovations.

It’s a gray, sorta rainy day here in Centerville. No wearing shades for me, inside or out– except in this picture. It’s the kind of day that makes me wanna do a lot more of the nothing than I’m usually doing since my stoopid surgery. When will my gut quit pinching, pulling, tugging, and feeling like duct tape is being ripped from across my innards? Really though, I’m doing much better than that last sentence makes it seem. Those odd pains and feelings are only occasional now. But when the buggers attack, I can’t not-feel them.

When I got out of bed this morning, I immediately became ticked off. And it wasn’t because of the gloomy weather. It’s because between my scarry tummy and my ouch-y rotator cuff, it took me literally two minutes– okay, forty-five seconds– to wriggle out of the bed. I do not consider myself old. I do, however, feel like I’m feeling apart.

This last year is the first time I’ve ever seriously felt I’m getting decrepit. First, I had to get new glasses with a much stronger prescription. Then I had to get a pair (or six) of cheapo reading glasses with stronger magnification. Then I had to get that sexy hearing device to drape around my ear. And then I had to get sawed in half for my pancreas surgery. As if that’s not enough, my rotator cuff has suddenly become an issue. That shoulder hurts so much I can’t even move my arm to dress myself. anymore I had no idea how much I used my right shoulder, until I couldn’t use it anymore. Seriously, that list o’ ailments amounts to more than enough physical adventure for a year– for me anyway. But no!

For the last few years, my fingers have been shaking a bit. It hasn’t been a bigly problem. But as of three days ago, my shaking phalanges have manifested a noticeable escalation in their doing whatever the hell they want, despite the orders I send them. In the context of my day-to-day doings, I manage my little finger earthquakes quite effectively. The real problem occurs when I’m writing on the computers. My fingers now have a tendency to hit the keys next to the key I told it to hit. And sometimes a finger’s shaking will cause it to tap one key twice.

Trying to move the cursor where I want it to be on the screen sometimes becomes a mystery as to where it will set itself down. When I’m typing on the laptop or desktop, I begin to feel as if I’m playing with a Ouija board. Apparently, my keyboard is trying to send me a message of some sort– perhaps from the beyond. Maybe my fingers are possessed. Or maybe my keyboard is. I dunno.

All of these medical problems either happened or came to a head the second I turned 54, last March. (Well, that’s how it seems). I hope every one of these problems is resolved by the second I turn 55. I know I will continue to experience age-related physical changes– which are generally not pleasant, but oh well. I don’t fight that. I’m at peace with aging. But I hope turning 55 in a few months will bring me some better health karma. I’ll settle for whatever karma won’t pile a mountain of physical issues on me, simultaneously. Of course, that all depends on if I have any good karma coming my way. I will certainly hate it if all the karma I get is the karma I probably truly deserve.

BTW  My health is good, relatively speaking. I am blessed to be so well. Despite what it might seem, I’m not complaining in this post. I’m just having a written tantrum which will pass as soon as I eat ice cream for breakfast and lunch and dinner.

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5! Count ‘Em. 5!

Two Bow Ties o’ the Day, plus three Neckties o’ The Day. I’m amazed at my own self that I managed to put this many ties on me at one time. I’ve set myself a sort of goal now: I want to set the record for wearing the most pieces of neckwear at the same time. Of course, I know there’s no record for wearing ties already. I’m sure no other human being in the history of mankind has thought of doing it. It is, therefore, accurate for me to boast that I hold the record. In my quest for adding to my record, I will be in competition only with myself. Still, my accomplishment must be put in the official Guinness Book of World Records. I must be The Tie-est o’ All– even if I’m the only “all.”

You might be wondering if I actually wear this kind of multi-tie get-up when I go out into the world. Yes, I do– sometimes. We all have a purpose in life. Wait. I got that wrong. We each have a host of purposes in our lives. One of mine is to be fluorescent in a world that is often dark. When I walk into a room, in my sometimes-way-over-the-top garb, the mood gets a bit lighter– even if the consensus of the folks in the room is that I’m a total idiot. You can bet I and the ties I’m wearing will be the topic of talk around the dinner table that evening– which will result in a chuckles. Mission accomplished.

This entire tie venture– including these website posts, which get shot to Facebook– is just plain strange to me. It isn’t my inexplicable tie obsession that’s strange to me. No, the strangeness of it is because I hate attention. I am a hermit at heart. I like to hang out in primarily solitary environments. I like my books. I listen to music, which acts as the soundtrack behind everything I do. Each day, I write poems– which are usually published– which I won’t share with people who know me. People can read my serious writing when I die, if they want to.

The point I’m trying to get across is that I’m not lonely in my own company. I’m not saying, “I’m the grooviest person, so why would I care to be around anyone who isn’t me?” Of course, I’m not meaning any of this in an arrogant way. I’m only saying I’m at ease with my own company. I suppose I mostly live what is sometimes referred to as “the life of the mind.” I think about everything, all the time. My crazy head has no OFF switch. There is always a party to attend in my brain– a party of thoughts and ideas.

All I can figure out about how my solitary self is okay with my gregarious, snappy-dressing public persona is that it is, in fact, just a persona– a kind of mask. It is not I out there in front of an audience. It’s the clash fashion. It’s the ties. Especially the bow ties. I’m simply the mannequin. And I’m the puppeteer.

HOLIDAY TIE TALLY: 8 Bow Ties. 11 Neckties.

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A Helen And A Skitter Walk Into A Bar…

I was resurrecting out of bed this morning, trying to decide what ties to wear for this photo. (Yes, TIE O’ THE DAY is always the first thing I think about when I wake up.) As I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, it occurred to me that my new sleep hat looks like a plaid Santa hat– making it one of the hippest Santa hats ever. That’s how I decided to display Santa hats Bow Tie o’ the Day and three Santa hats Ties o’ the Day.

As I typed the paragraph above– where I mentioned rubbing the sleep out of my eyes– I was reminded of an old joke that for some reason I remember. Here it is: “Why do women rub their eyes first thing when they get out of bed in the morning? Because they don’t have balls to scratch.” (Excuse my language there if it bothered you, but it was the right word for the joke.)

Of all the jokes I’ve ever heard in my life, why is that joke one of the few I can always remember? And why is it that most of us have the hardest time remembering the “clean” jokes? Or maybe that’s just me. On the other hand, if you’re like that too, maybe I should just reply with another jokey thing: “You better get your head out of the gutter, so mine can roll by.” What a groaner.

As I finished typing the paragraph above, it came to me that we also tend to remember jokes and sayings with a high gross-factor. This is one of my fave grossly humorous sayings, which can apply to any arrogant person you can think of: “He thinks he’s hot snot on a silver platter. But he’s really a cold booger on a paper plate.” That’s yet another groaner. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say it’s “a gross-er.”

I’ve always been better at spouting improvisational humor than with telling jokes. I do the spontaneous humor that occurs organically out of a conversation I’m having, or out of a place I happen to be. Even when I write these posts, more often than not, I don’t have anything in mind when I open up my laptop. I just start writing and try to find an interesting and/or amusing way to tie (hahaha) the tie photos to what I’m writing. Sometimes the writing and the tie photo connect in an obvious way. Sometimes they link up by the skinniest of threads. Occasionally, I seriously have to stretchhhhh to find the connection between the photo and the words. When I have to do that big stretch, I consider that to be my calisthenics for the day.

HOLIDAY TIE TALLY: 6 bow ties. 8 neckties.

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Kitties And Penguins, Dressed For A Merry Christmas

Bow Tie o’ the Day and one Tie o’ the Day offer up a batch of kitties in their festive Christmas hats. The other Tie o’ the Day lets us watch a Santa-hatted penguin do some ice fishing with a candy cane. Love me my critter ties.

I have done my fake research and come up with the fake fact that the internet was originally created for the sole purpose of distributing sappy cute animal pictures, memes, and videos. That might be fake news, but sometimes my Facebook news feed makes me wonder if it might actually be true. Cute animals and political posts that haven’t been fact-checked– that’s the bulk of what shows up for me on Facebook.

I don’t have to sift through all that extra stuff when I’m on my tie website, and that’s nice. But it’s also worth it to me to stay on Facebook to connect with my pals. I’ll wade through the malarkey posts in order to get to my “friends.” I mean– we all do interesting stuff. And the things we do differ significantly from each other. I find it fascinating to see what we’ve all done– and continue to do– with our lives. We are diverse, and we are much the same. I guess that’s what makes us human beings.

We have approached our adult lives with varied plans. And I imagine most of us are not quite where we thought we would be at this point on our mortal journey. Stuff happens. Let’s be honest: shit happens. Not every circumstance in our lives is under our control. We do the best we can to stay out of our own way when we can, but sometimes we’re just stooopid idiots. For whatever reason, we occasionally make choices that create havoc in our own lives, diverting us from any brilliant plan we might have had. But we are, in fact, still here. That’s a good thing.

If you haven’t already– and you most likely have– you will experience tragedy, pain, loneliness, and disappointment to a degree you could never have imagined existed before they found you. These sadnesses will become part of your story. You can make it through these storms. You can learn the lessons these floods can teach you. Your Facebook friends– and tblog friends– are part of your cheerleading squad. Their LIKE’s and COMMENT’s can build you up.

And that idea leads me to this: In your life’s trek, you will meet people you don’t especially care for. Maybe they simply bug you in some minor way, like the way they hold their chopsticks. Maybe they mock you because you have a website about ties. Maybe they slashed your car tires when you broke up with them. But remember– tragedy, pain, loneliness, and disappointment will surely visit them too. It will punch them in the gut as hard as it punches you. It will bring them to their knees. And you might be on your knees at exactly the same time. You might as well pray together while you’re both kneeling down there in the mud, because you’re gonna need to help each other up.

That’s part of what it means to love your neighbor– chopsticks and all.

TIE TALLY: I’ve worn 5 holiday bow ties and 5 holiday neckties so far. That’s 10 pieces o’ Christmas neckwear in only 3 days. I wonder how high I can count.

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Our First Neckwear Three-fer O’ The Season

We have to remember we aren’t the only ones trying to get in shape and drop a little poundage for the holiday parties, at which we will show off our new skinny bodies and our ugly sweaters. Or something like that. Ties o’ the Day help us remember that Santa, his helpers, and his reindeer have to build up their muscles and stamina for the 24-hour, worldwide event called Christmas. We think we’re in a frenzy to pick out gifts, decorate, and cook–  but nope. These dudes are really the ones who frenzy around to give Christmas its material joy. The least we can do is to leave the rotund guy a cookie or two, and hope he shares his cookie haul with all his support staff. Of course, I do not leave a glass of milk for the jolly ol’ boy. I leave a tall glass of Diet Coke. I figure Santa needs the caffeine.

Bow Tie o’ the Day offers us some Billy Bob Thornton, as a grossly bad Santa, from the movie BAD SANTA. That movie is not a Xmas classic. I’ve actually never been able to get through the entire movie, so I can’t recommend it. Why did I buy Bad Santa Bow Tie then? Because I didn’t already have one like it.

But I’ve changed. My bow tie collection feels almost complete. I’m at the point that unless a bow tie captures my attention from at least forty feet away, I’m not all that interested in adding it to my collection. I still have an incredible fervor for the little critters. I just have a bit of the been-there-done-that feeling about the less dazzling bow ties. I suppose it’s sort of like when you’re in your having-kids years, and one day you just know you’re done adding to your family. You’ve had enough babies. Your family feels whole. You get a feeling about it. No more babies, please and thank you.

I have no biological children. I decided when I was very young that giving birth to babies was not on my Bucket List. As I have probably mentioned here before, I thought my genes should end with me. I’m convinced that if my body created a kid, that poor child would have all of my worst physical attributes: My kid would have bad hair, bad teeth, too-big boobs, and be bipolar. I would not feel good about myself if I did that to a child of God. (Especially if it was a boy– with that big boob characteristic.)

But I do have two sons– one with an ex and one with Suzanne. One kid at a time was enough for me. Those boys are what I needed in my life. I love the men they are now. I tried to teach them what my parents taught me. And I can say without exaggeration that neither Devon nor Rowan ever left the house– or went to bed at night– without being told they were loved. Oh, and I always added, as they left the house: Remember your “please”s and “thank you”s. They have each reported to me how that advice has helped them become successful in their lives.

FYI   I will post more about the amazing Devon and Rowan in the future. Believe it or not, there are some topics– Devon being chief among them– I’m not yet ready to write about here. Yes, I have a filter. Yes, I have places in my heart which I have a tough time re-visiting. But I’ll keep getting things worked out, and you’ll read about it– because these posts are a kind of memoir, and I’ve sworn to tell the truth. The whole truth. So help me, whatever god makes you a better person.

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Big Christmas Wreath, Big Bow

Wreath-and-Santa Tie o’ the Day watched its cousin, Christmas Bow o’ the City o’ Farmington, ascend to its seasonal spot on its bigly Christmas Wreath o’ Farmington. If City Hall says it’s time to be mindful of the season, it is officially time for the reindeer games to begin. That makes me feel extra justified in bringing out the holiday neckwear this early.

Suzanne and I sit at this spot during her lunch hour whenever she’s not working through lunch. When it’s warm enough, we sit at the picnic tables in the park here. When it’s chilly, we hang out in the car. It’s only two blocks away from her office, but it gives her a break from the work environment. We could drive farther away, but why waste lunch time driving to and from.

Meeting for lunch is one of those relationship maintenance things we do. Some days are so hectic that we don’t even see each other around the house. After she gets home from work, I might being doing “x” on one floor of the house while she’s doing “y” on the other floor. And don’t even get me started on how easily couples can get in a rut and start treating each other like they’re just part of the furniture.

Relationship maintenance is also why we make a point of going to brunch every Sunday. And it’s why we do Bee Pig Date Night. And it’s why we vacay whenever we get the chance. And it’s why we go to concerts, etc. a lot. It’s all about checking in with each other and being truly present in our relationship. We also keep each other out of trouble by being with each other– except for the trouble we occasionally get into together. Causing trouble together can bring you closer too.

We do have our own outside interests too. That’s also good for maintaining a healthy relationship. If you don’t do things separately, what do you have to talk about that you don’t already know about each other? A person in a relationship needs to go out into the world alone so they can bring stories home to tell their significant other. It makes for good conversation. It helps you not get bored with each other. And I can say from personal experience that acting out your stories– or singing them in a fake opera voice– adds a layer of entertainment for your person as they listen to your adventures.

Suzanne has her Champagne Garden Club and her no-name book club, among other things she does without me. I have my tie/bow tie/cravat/ascot/bolo shopping excursions and my… well, I guess that’s about it for me in the outside world. When I’m out, I do have encounters with strangers who comment about whatever neckwear I’m sporting at any given time. I’m a hermit by choice. Oddly, I always have new, wild stories with which to regale Suzanne, whether I leave the house or not.  ‘Splain that one.

The trick to creating a healthy couple relationship is balance. You have to balance staying close to each other with staying your own independent self. You have to be one with each other, while remaining the singular self that is you. Trust me. I don’t know everything, but I’m right about this balance-in-a-relationship idea.

That’s my lesson for today. Thank you for reading. I don’t know why pontificating about things is sometimes what I do in my posts. Words just fall out of my head, and sometimes they’re about sorta serious topics. I’ll get funny again– probably by next post.

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A Two-fer O’ Ties

Peppermint Bow Tie o’ the Day is this year’s introduction to the Christmas neckwear. Let the holiday atTIEre season begin! I have to start displaying the collection this early, so you can see a representative cornucopia of holiday neckwear by the end of the season. You won’t see every last one of the holiday ties– just a select 100 or so. I’d be wearing them all year if I had to present them all.

Skitter decked herself out in her tartan Tie o’ the Day, in order to attend her award ceremony. I felt like she deserved some kind of prize for finally– after five years with us– being able to set aside her weird fear, and pee while on one of her walks. Finally, she peed somewhere other than on our own property. I still stand all amazed at her new ability.

I managed to dig out my 1980 Miss Liberty trophy to give to Skitter, to acknowledge her triumph. Skitter didn’t even mind that whatever was atop the trophy had broken off and got lost a couple of decades ago. Skitter’s hairy chest filled with pride as she accepted her trophy– although she thought it was too pokey to sleep with in her crate.

I put it on top of Suzanne’s Ultimate SewingBox for all to see. Since I placed the trophy up there, Skitter has made eye contact with nothing else. I can’t blame her for being dizzy with glee about getting an award. She has worked hard to turn into a real dog.

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Working Out With Errands

As my t-shirt says, bow ties ARE cool, and so is Tie o’ the Day with its herd of black-and-white neckties. I had to take clothes to the dry cleaners today and I thought I should fancy up a bit, so that’s why I had to don Tie. How much fancier can you get than wearing black-and-white ties? I do not own anything remotely like a tuxedo or I would have worn that too.

You see, I am still doing the recovering-after-surgery thing, so doing anything at all tends to exhaust me. I don’t want to leave my recliner. I walk Skitter, then I have to rest. I do chores around the house, then I crash again. But I make sure I do at least one errand each day. It gets me out of the house and it helps build my stamina. It also gives me a chance to do my clash fashion thing out among the masses. A person really should get out of their pajamas sometimes. And by “a person” I mean me.

As one of my house chores I have been cleaning up The Tie Room a little bit this week, which means I have been re-arranging the closet in there. I have some ties hanging in the closet, but shirts are most of what’s taking up the closet rod space. Over the weekend, I had this brilliant idea to organize my shirts by color. It did not work. Why? Because apparently I have about three shirts that aren’t blue. I am The Queen o’ Blue Shirts, so my closet is organized thus: three non-blue shirts at one end, and blue shirts on the remainder of the closet rod.

I told Suzanne that if I ever buy a shirt again– and I will– it will not be any shade of blue, no matter how groovy it might look. She simply looked at me with that look that says, “Helen, do you have one clue about the reality of how you are?” She’s right. Hello, more blue shirts.

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I Must Be Losing My Touch

Tie o’ the Day reeks of prettiness. Just gaze at it a sec. See what I mean?

Hat o’ the Day is a new addition to my hat club. It showed up in my mailbox yesterday. I was not surprised at its arrival because– of course– I ordered it. Duh!

Anyhoo… My main bow tie supplier is Beau Ties Limited of Vermont. In my post photos, you’ve often seen me in their t-shirts and hats, as well as their bow ties. They make a bunch of misc. other stuff. For example, I have drinking glasses and a coffee mug with their bow tie logo stamped on them. And then there are the playing cards with bow tie backs. And a bow tie-emblazoned water bottle. And a lovely bow tie logo Christmas ornament they just sent me. And on and on. Heck, you can even send Beau Ties Limited of Vermont one of your neckties and they’ll turn it into a bow tie for you.

This sleep cap is a new item they’re peddling. I had to have one. It looks stunning, and that alone is enough reason to fork out a couple of bucks. But there is a practical reason I “need” this cap: My ears are cold from October to May, and I need a little sumpin’ sumpin’ to keep my ear tips warm. I like to sleep in a freezing bedroom, so this is a fashionable alternative to wearing a regular old beanie while I sleep.

A funny thing already happened to me and my new night cap. Last night, on our way home from our dinner/movie event at the U, Suzanne and I stopped to get the mail. There was a little package with my name on it, and I knew exactly what it was. At home, I opened my package while Suzanne was upstairs. I fell in love with my new sleep hat and immediately put it on. So there I was– sittin’ in the loveseat, wearing my glorious sleep hat, watching LivePD, and generally being me. Suzanne came downstairs and sat in the loveseat next to me. Picture it: I’m wearing my not-so-tame hat she’s never seen before. You can see it’s a silly, long, red-and-black flannel hat. With a tassel!!!! Suzanne said nothing about it. Nada. Not one word.

For five minutes, I waited for some kind of reaction from Suzanne. A word, a snicker, rolling eyes– a response of any kind. Nothing. Finally, I said, “Hey, do you notice anything different about me?” And she said something like, “Yeah. I saw your hat.” And then she immediately went back to looking through her JOANN’s sale ads.

Are my shenanigans getting dull, or is Suzanne starting to take my weirdness for granted? Either way, I gotta revamp my schtick.

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I Really Did Officially Study Constitutional Law

Tie o’ Last Night helped me go formal black tie to an event at the University of Utah. I even wore my black-and-white harlequin cape, but I coat-checked it at the door. Thus, you don’t see it in this picture. Every now and again, during our grand evening, I got a jolt of panic– wondering if someone had maybe seen my beauteous cape and stolen it. But then I’d remember: It’s a very out-there cape, and there’s probably not another soul on the planet who could make that look work. My capes will always be safe from theft, I think.

I’m always telling you that Suzanne is a bigly deal in the public school system. And she is. Lately, one of her tasks has been to deal with the topic of Women in Leadership– particularly the LACK of women holding leadership positions in public education.

As a result of some of her efforts, she got an invite to last night’s dinner at the U, which was followed by a screening of the documentary, RBG– about Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. What a brilliant mind, in the tiniest body. I did not know that over her career as a lawyer, she had argued six cases in front of the Supreme Court, winning five of the six.

My fave amusing part of the film was when the camera followed her during her normal workout. She’s 86, and she lifts weights. She also does push-ups, along with the rest of her challenging workout regimen. Just watching her made me tired. But it also made me feel inspired, and not just to work out. It inspired me to think more about what I can do to make the future a little better for others I will never know– because, of course, I’ll be dead. But the future won’t.

BTW  I’ve written at least three times about seeing WON’T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOR?– the documentary about Mr. Rogers. I’ve watched it a few times, and I’ll watch it many more. His wisdom is filled with common sense love. As I watched RBG last night, I felt like I was watching a different-but-same continuation of WON’T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOR?. Both Rogers’ and Ginsburg’s lives have been about loving your neighbor and treating them with dignity. What a way to be.