I know it’s been quiet here, lately.
Couldn’t be helped.
In Washington, D. C. last week, I became ill after dining with the Capitol Hill elite. Not gut-puking, Talking-on-the-Ceramic-Phone ill, but just enough of a sap on energy to make life truly miserable.
Ever been on an aircraft and gotten…you know…sick? Yeah, it’s like that…except without the egress of any food particulates.
I’m trying to do this without disgusting you all, but that is the one sensation that will totally kill my muse. I can write under the influence of some serious pharmaceuticals, but don’t ask for my input—or output—when le Tummy’s tuckered.
It’s taken a week to work through the ordeal.
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look a lobster in the eye again…until the next time.
Meanwhile a few random thoughts did seep from my unconsciousness, including the following notions:
I have devised a rating system for men’s neckties, based on the ease of securing them around the collar. There are some ties that are just better-cut so that they knot more easily at the throat, dimpling just-so below, and fanning and flattening nicely against a dress shirt.
Then there are ties that refuse to conform, fight like a scalded cat against looping through the knot, and look like they were used to tow your brother-in-law, Bubba’s, pick-up back from the casino last Saturday night. Not even a terrific pattern can compensate for some neckties that are just too much trouble to wrestle into a presentable knot.
So, I rate ties based upon the number of attempts it takes to achieve satisfactory “knottage,” on a scale of one to five. A one-knot tie I will wear often, simply for the dexterous pleasure of tying it once and once only. The knot is perfect every time, the dimple subtle below the cross-over, the bottom flowing smartly to just past my buckle.
I don’t know if the fashionistas in New York approve, but it looks and feels good on me. Which begs another question: how to best color coordinate the tie? Do you match with your jacket, shirt, or the shaving cut you just inflicted on your chin?
A two-knot tie takes a couple of tries to get right, but is worth the effort because it stays tied without that cross-continental shift effect during the day (another pet peeve: ties that slip over a period of hours, so that by the time your big presentation arrives, you look ready for your DUI mug shot session at the county lock-up.)
There was a rock band in the ‘60’s that took its name from an Innuit Indian expression that described a gauge of cold weather based upon the number of dogs it took to keep warm. A cool night dictated you slept with one dog in the bed with your and your wives. A triple-header generally was reserved for bitterly cold nights during which said wives were equally frigid, requiring three dogs in the igloo.
You know them as Three Dog Night.
They're still around.
They don't wear ties.
I seriously doubt any rock bands are going to form-up and call themselves Five-Knot Tie. Although that would make an interesting name for an oriental food restaurant...
...which appeals to my warped sense of irony and order in the universe, since neckties were originally created to keep gravy off your shirt. A really sloppy, spicy plate of noodles and veggies could be described as “five knot Thai.”