This Is My Candle

This is my candle. Please note that both ends are burning. Everybody has been sick, my workload has doubled this week, and I've been living on pills and coffee. Needless to say, my creative well has been a little low this week.

This Sunday marks 12 years since Flannery and I tied the knot. To celebrate, we are going to bed early after a sumptuous dinner of Ramen noodles. We will toast the occasion with some Tylenol and split a box of tissues. No gifts will be exchanged, as we are as broke as an eight-day clock. These are lean times.

I hope all is well with you and yours. I'll drop by this weekend and read your posts for this week.

Don't let your meat loaf,
Doc

A Po' Boy Don't Have To Look Shabby

"Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society." - Mark Twain.*

I did something today that I haven't done in ten years. No, I didn't sober up. I went clothes shopping. The last time I went clothes shopping was for a funeral. I'd like to tell you I remember the funeral and the person well, but that would be a lie. I do remember the really cool sunglasses and the sport coat I bought. The coat was a nice checked number, and the glasses looked like the ones Clint Eastwood wore in Dirty Harry. God rest his or her soul, whoever they were.

I don't shop for my own clothes for two reasons. Flannery has excellent taste, and it provides her easy gifts to shop for when a holiday arrives. She knows my sizes, colors, tastes, and needs. She always picks just the right thing and it always has a certain Flannery flair about it. I enjoy wearing what she picks.

The clothes I generally wear fall along the lines of utility. Carharts, Army surplus, T-shirts, jeans; earth tones with lots of pockets that will take a fair amount of wear and tear. I want to purchase an article of clothing that I can get six to ten years worth of wear out of, if for no other reason than I don't want to have to go out and shop for it again anytime soon. I hate shopping, unless it is for something unique to my interests e.g. new house, new car, new canoe, new hat, new beer, new gun, etc. Mostly I just want to know should the occasion arrive that I need certain duds, I have them.

Hence this morning's foray into the world of clothes shopping.

Now far be it for me to give Men's Fashion Tips as my only qualification in the field is that I have read two issues of GQ. Rural, central Ohio is not a hotbed of style gurus, so my formal training is somewhat lacking, but I do know from life experience that some situations call for certain clothes. Let's face it Gentlemen, at some time in your life you will have to attend a wedding, a funeral, a baptism, and a court date. You have to have a few simple things you can throw together so you don't look like some derelict who wandered in off the street to scrounge the ashtrays for butts. Sometimes you just have to look the part.

First off is a white shirt with a collar. At least one, and a tie. Opinions on ties vary according to taste, occasion, and the whim of fashion, but a good rule of thumb is ties with cartoons on them are only cool in situations where you don't need a tie, and take the five minutes it takes to learn how to tie one. There are only three knots and if you can tie your shoes, you can tie your tie. The only exception is the bow tie and I have spent ten years trying to figure out how to make it come out right and not look like a hangman's noose and have never mastered it. Screw it, they make clip on bow ties and no one faults you for not knowing how to tie one.

Two, you need one sport coat or one suit. Nothing fancy, nothing flashy, but it has to fit well. Most dry cleaners offer alterations for about ten bucks and you can pick up a used suit at the thrift store for about the same price. Shoot for grays, dark blues, blacks. Pinstripes never go out of fashion. Just try not to look like a banker in today's economy. In a sport coat, go with a simple tweed. Always remember that you are looking for a suit or sport coat that will be good to wear three seasons out of the year and that doesn't include winter. In winter you would wear a coat over it anyway. A wool suit or coat might look nice, but try wearing it to an out-of-doors funeral in August and you will wish very hard that you could climb into the air-conditioned limo that the widow rode in.

Three, own a turtleneck sweater. If you have to show up somewhere and look respectable (even if you aren't) a turtle-neck sweater beats wearing a tie any day. It is "dressy" enough without all the stuffiness of a tie. It couples good with your sport coat and makes you look like a Bohemian academic and that isn't a bad thing, especially for a date night.

These are time-honored classics that you just need to have. Sure, drag out your Members Only jacket for 80's night, but don't wear it to Grandma's funeral or your sister's third wedding.

That brings me full circle to the story of this morning. I had dropped the kids off at school and had some time to kill. Flannery had told me that she had cashed in some frequent flyer miles, and while they weren't enough to purchase a ticket to anywhere, but they were enough to get us $100 worth of twenty-five dollar gift certificates to our favorite local restaurant. "You've got the night off, right?" she asked. "Sure," I said, and wondered what to wear out on a date with my wife. It isn't often that we spend an evening away from home and if I want to stay in her good graces, I have to look like someone you would want to take out.

I go through my mental checklist. We will not be attending a "cheap" restaurant even if we are doing it on the "cheap". I need a turtle-neck sweater and my checked sport coat. The coat I have, as I got it for So-and-So's funeral. The sweater, I don't have.

My first thought is Macy's but they don't open until noon. Where do I get one at 9:33 AM? Target I decided. They would have cheap men's clothing, so I headed there.

On the way I contemplated how I had clothes to donate to the Salvation Army and I wished that I had had the foresight to bring them with me as it was on the way. Then I had a revelation.

Why not go shopping at the Salvation Army? What I'm looking for is really common and it is going to be cheap. Long story short; I got a dozen sweaters and shirts for $20.

Mind you, I look like I robbed Perry Como's wardrobe as it's all turtlenecks and cardigan sweaters, but a po' boy don't have to look shabby.

I'll tell you about date night later,
Doc

* -Best birthday card I ever got had this Mark Twain quote on it. Inside the card he was naked except for a fig leaf. I have it hanging in the Lodge.

I Have Taken The Pledge!

I have climbed on the wagon. I know. I am as surprised as you are. But for the next two weeks, as a financial experiment, I won't be buying any beer. Now that doesn't mean I won't be drinking the cold ones I already have, as they have been paid for. Nor will I turn down a free one if it's offered, but I can't purchase any. No beer, no wine, or spirituous liquor.

Flannery threw down this little gauntlet and I have taken it up. She wants to see how much money we will save if this "luxury" is done away with. I tried to convince her that canceling the cable was the way to go but I may as well have been talking to a brick wall. She wouldn't budge. So I will be passing my time parched while she sits through "Dancing With The Stars".

In some small way I'm looking forward to the experiment, as it will prove a challenge and a test for my flimsy excuse of will-power. The redness in my eyes will clear up. I will want to go to bed early, as there won't be anything better to do. I will start to rise early in the morning and I will catch up on all my chores. In short, I will become healthy, wealthy, and wise.

But I don't want any of those things. I want a cold frothy beer that will comfort me in my daily troubles and will welcome me home like an old friend. I want to listen to the choir of angels sing in every "psttt" of a freshly cracked beer. I want to feel it's cold wet goodness sliding down the back of my throat and the subtle soft sting of it's kiss.

This is going to be hard. I sure hope she is going to be feeling extra randy these next two weeks. I'll be up dating you regularly as to my progress, and if you have any words of encouragement, or suggestions, I'd love to hear them.

Doc

Jobs That Are Not For Me; Typesetter.

I would be a terrible typesetter for a noosepaper, as my spelling is so pour. If it wasn't for spellcheck, this blog would be a morass of spelling and typing errors.


I thought of this today as I contemplated Mark Twain. He had made lots of money off of his books, as well as marrying into money, and still managed to squander his wealth on a scheme to invent an automatic typesetting machine for newspapers. Because of this, he spent his later years traveling and doing lectures just to keep the creditors off his back.

Imagine it, America's most well known and revered author, forced to travel the country doing reading gigs in every Podunk Junction, staying in crappy hotels, eating the blue plate special, and relying on the kindness of strangers at the bar, just to make ends meet. There is a reason that most every picture you see of Mark Twain, he is in a white three piece suit. He used to refer to these suits as his "Go To Hell" suits and he had several. The reason he had so many was he got a good deal on a bolt of white cloth when he was near broke and had a dozen suits made out of it. It made packing simple and everything matched, as well as being appropriate for every occasion.


This made me realise that I would have been a cheap and ineffective way for him to save some money on his typesetting scheme and he wouldn't have had to tour so much, but not if he would have hired me as his accountant.


Doc