Shopping

You know, at times - most of them - I just hate spending money. 

Still, I have got a wedding coming up and little to wear. 

When we went business casual a few years ago - pre Covid - my suits fit iffly anyways. Add into that since then I've lost somewhere between 20-35 pounds (depending on which suit we were talking about) that anything in that collection just hangs off me at this point.

Don't get me started on some moth problem(s). 

So a new suit was in order. 

But I also like to procrastinate. 

Not only do I not like parting with dough, I loathe shopping. And being tended to in such stores where I know they're gonna measure, mark stuff and generally fuss is a reason enough to hold off going in. 

Time though is kind of the essence. Shit or get off the pot, as they say. 

So off the pot I went. Or shat. I'm not sure which one I was supposed to do. Or not do. 

I hit one store and found nothing. Then onto another. I realize that I make bad decisions just to get out of the shopping situation as early as possible. So I stuck with it and that thought to help me navigate this once so I do it right and never again. 

It didn't take me long to find a probable suit. The material, colour and lack of pattern suited me (ha! see that?). The guy tried to show me another one with large checks, which might have been nice, but it wasn't me. And in two years people would be say, "that is so 2025!". And it was way more than I wanted to spend. 

Now the store guy / tailor does this for a living, so I'm sure he knew what he is talking about when he said, "are you a 36 or 38 inch waist?". 

O-U-C-H. 

Before I could answer, he said, "don't say 32 or 34 because you'd be wrong". 

O-U-C-H #2

Depending on my semi-dress slacks or jeans I am a 32 or 34 - even if I have to suck it in a bit.

The 44R jacket was perfect. The pants he provided - 36 - were far too big. I felt semi-vindicated. And while I'd l'd have liked them to be 32, the 34s were just fine, save for a small alteration in the hem of the legs and to add a slight break. 

All told, it was still more than I wanted to spend, but you know, if I can maintain this weight, this might be the last suit I ever buy. 

At least I hope it is. 

Song by: the Pet Shop Boys

the Hardest Button to Button

I just promised I wouldn't write about the gym - and yet here I am. 

Kind of. 

I'm still getting back into the swing of how to go the gym. It takes planning and prep and a routine. Not the lifting / cardio kind either. 

No, I'm talking about: the gym bag, the locker, the system one has down and all of that. 

Locker placement is crucial, but I think I have mine down. I mean, it's 05:00. I can count on one hand how many people are there at this time. And one guy carries his gym back from station to station. 

But twice in three weeks, I have forgotten a belt. Bother. 

Still, I thought - yes, that problematic part of my life......thought - I could make it through the day without one. It would look weird. It would feel weird, but it was manageable. 

........until it wasn't. 

Unfortunately, the pair of pants I had selected for my work trousers (oh yes, I said 'trousers') had a loose button. I'd been playing with fire - or like when you think you can make it another 20 miles on E.  Surely I could wear these again without fixing said button. 

Let it be known, I don't know how I'd fix them, as I was never taught to sew or mend. It's more likely I'd guy a new $50 pair of pants then take them somewhere to fix them for $3.  Yes, I'm cheap, but more importantly, I can be incredibly lazy. 

As luck would have it - mine wore out this day of no belt. 

Yes, in theory the pants still latched, but the extender piece (clearly, I have no actual names for these pants parts) would stick out, as I could not button it. And there was no time to go home, get new clothes and change before an a.m. meeting. 

Bother indeed. 

Yes, as you can see from the title image, I was, let's say, creative.  I McGuyver'd the hell out of my outfit., thanks to one binder clip. 

If anyone noticed (though I don't leave my office much), no one said a word. It could have been an amusing anecdote, but in realty they probably just thought I was a perv. 

They might not have been wrong. 

Song by: the White Stripes

Radioactive

Of course (?) you've heard of the nutbags concerned people who think that 5G causes Covid.  People have been trying to blow up cell phone towers to have them from having to wear masks. 

It is crazy. 

Or so I thought. 

While perusing amazon, they actually make boxer briefs that filter out 4G and 5G radiation. 

I mean you're kind of fucked if you're still on 3G. 

Made of 42% silver? Really?? 

Silver, per ounce, is about $22.67.  So if the boxers are $27.97 you're kind of getting ripped off.  Those shorts should be about 92% silver at that price. 

At this point in my life - and in the world - cell phone radiation is the least of my worries. Spending almost $30 on a pair of underwear ranks higher. 

Song by: Imagine Dragons

See if I Care

They say 'imitation is the sincerest form of flattery'.  It might be true, unless you're Blobby.  Then it's the sincerest form of mockery.

....but mockery with a message.

A month is a millennium in a news cycle. Hell, news cycles don't last that long. So it's been over a month since Melanoma wore her now infamous $29 Not Caring Jacket®.

I will give the Dems this, they got right on it and offered the shirt I now wear, but it took four weeks to get it in my hands. A lifetime.

I'll say - it was questionable to wear it on vacation. This is North Carolina, after all. As I'm not in Charlotte or Ashville, I think I could be deep into BLOTUS country.  Wrightsville Beach has a surfer / redneck vibe going on here. I could easily be beaten and dumped in the ocean.

Still, it is important to send the message.

It cost me all of $20.18 (plus shipping).  I even threw in a $10 donation to the dems to do with it as they wish - though I'm 99% sure they won't use it wisely enough.

I no longer see the shirt on the Dem's on-line store.  Maybe it was a limited offer. Maybe they're out of stock.  Or maybe they don't really care. 

Time will tell.



Song by: Gary Allan

Casual Match

Quarterly, we have a leadership meeting at a nice hotel downtown. I'm surprised how many 'leaders' opt out of this meeting - though I don't know they're supposed to, but attendance is not taken, so......

I'd say of each four hour meeting, there is one really good presentation and point taken away that makes it worthwhile. For me, it's usually financial or government relations related. Yes, I'm that guy.

This week's meeting didn't have any of that. The year close hasn't finished, and they aren't about to give preliminary numbers. I'm a little tired about hear of tele-health. It might come more into fashion, but I'll be retired or dead before that happens.

During a break, I had to pee, so went with the throngs of folks who all had to do the same thing. Depending on the meeting, these are usually attended by 800-1000 folks. Once again, the pool women having to wait in line like it's a Def Leppard concert.........again.   The smart ones go to another floor in the hotel to find another facility.  I do that too......but when I have to poo.

So, I'm standing there, peeing, and kind of look to my left, and there stands (and pees) the CEO. He's an imposing man, towering over me at least by 4-5".....and I'm 6'2". I also notice he's still mic'd. If I truly knew him - and was comfortable talking to someone while they urinated - I'd have mentioned the scene in Naked Gun when Leslie Neilsen goes to the restroom.

I would then have been looking for new work, after he faux laughed at my joke. So I said nothing.

I have never not stayed for the entire event. But this last one, I had a meeting back on main campus and I still had to drive back and find a way to eat something before said meeting. So I snuck out 20 minutes early, as the head of HR was talking about employee engagement. Yes, the irony was not lost on me.

Now the head of HR knows me.  Kind of.  We are good friends with a third party, but we have never crossed paths even with that friend. So I don't know him know him enough to have commented that he wasn't wearing a tie at what is always an adult dress-appropriate event. Just sayin'.

Cut to the next morning - yesterday morning. I'm in a budget meeting and a peer of mine, Bill, asks why I'm wearing a tie.  Not that he's not.  I said, because, I always do.  Dick (it's not Richard, honest), is next to him looking all out of sorts.

Bill goes, "I saw you were at the meeting yesterday, what did you think about the business casual announcement".    Blink.  Blink. Blink.  (on my part.) 

Yes, I missed the point where HR-guy said we, as an organization, were behind the cultural times in the workplace and spoke how we should be business casual.

Many - and many of you - would applaud this. I'm not one.  I mean, you've seen my closet of ties. Dozens upon dozens. And I also think it changes the dynamic of work and non-work. And I like wearing ties.

So Dick, who always wears a suit, is just flummoxed by this turn of events. He's a man lost. I don't think he was ever able to focus on the budget meeting at hand.

Bill says to Dick and myself, "I'm not going to be an early adopter.......I'll wait for you guys to do this".  I think Bill might be waiting for a while. I did notice three of the men were already tieless. Clearly they took this to heart.....and quick.

Oddly enough, on the way to this meeting I passed the CEO - and he was still in a tie. I suppose he has to be:  donors and all.

We will see how this all plays out, but for now, my dress-up habits will not change.



Song by: Suzanne Vega

Tie it Up

So here I am, week four of work, and I have yet to wear the same tie twice. And honestly, I haven't even made a dent in the tie selection I could use.

I should thin some of the herd, but then I think....."what if......?"

What if?

What if it comes back in style?  What if I finally find the right suit and shirt and place to wear such a tie?

There is an art to wearing a tie.

It is not just the length. Really people.....a tie ends at the top of your belt....not to the middle of your zipper and certainly not to the third button on your shirt. There are different kinds of knots, but I like mine middling. Not a thin knot and not those fucking huge ones that the prissy realtors on Selling New York wear........though I do wonder how they do that.

But to get a tie just right, it has to be the correct fabric.

Ok - it's not that I know exactly what the fabric should be, but some neckwear are just harder to handle than others. Silky fabrics are much harder to control.

And I'm not Dr. Spo - bow ties are probably beyond me. Even at weddings I have been in, the bows were clasped, not tied. Oh the shame!

I have this uncanny knack for knowing my ties - even though there are dozens upon dozens of them, and even if I haven't worn a certain one for years.

I know that if it is tie A, I need to start it a certain way, or knot it a certain way, I know if it is tie B, I have a piece of tape holding the label on, so I can still tuck the back part of the tie into it.  I know if it is my Jerry Garcia tie, it has a rip on the back that no one will see, but it's only a matter of time before the tie is dead and buried.....much like Jerry himself.

A few years ago, when my cousin Bill passed away, he had his ties distributed to folks who attended Shiva. I probably arrived too late for the great ties - but I wasn't really there to collect on anything but family time. I was honored to walk away with the one I have. It's a little out of style, but I know one day I will wear it.

Oddly, only one person at his stone setting came to the service in one of Bill's ties.....and it was a woman. It was such a great idea and one of which I wished I had thought. Still, I look at that tie and think "one day....."

I know you're thinking - WTF is he talking about with these ties?

For the holidays, my mother got me two new ties, thinking I'd need them for my new job. I opened them and almost immediately thought, "oh - how bland". But upon reflection and deciding if I wanted to go to the outlet mall to return them, I thought - I don't actually have (m)any bland ties....at least by my standards.

But "bland" works. It is not easy to match one of my ties with that shirt you see in the title image. You can easily get clashing patterns. And I don't always like to wear a solid colour shirt. So, while the tie might not have been "my style", it actually works.

I was kind of laughing at myself yesterday morning as I dressed and made three or four attempts at tying the tie. It was new and unfamiliar to me - unlike the rest in my closet. I had to get to know it; how to wear it. I kept readjusting it all day, not that it needed it. But I did - I needed to know that it was just right.

But when it was said and done, it wasn't long enough...at least for me. No one else would have noticed the 1/4" above the top of my belt, but it bugged the ever-loving fucking out of me.



Song by: Kelly Clarkson

Angst in my Pants

I really have almost nothing to write about. Lucky for you (or unlucky, depending....), I said "almost".

Blame my cousin for this one. Jeggings.

Blobby, for one, has never heard of them. But unlike an inordinate number of my readership, I don't watch Project Runway (I refuse to provide a hyperlink).

I'm sure "jeggings" is part of their daily vocabulary - and wardrobe.

Part jeans, part "leggings". Just sweatpants. I'm sure at a greatly marked-up price too. ....that apparently do nothing but show your junk.

In a perfect world, that'd be enough to buy and wear them in public. It just seems like a horrible marketing ploy and I already get brow-beaten for wearing sweats to the grocery store at 07:00 when I am up and find out we have no milk. I'm not changing so the lady in the express aisle can see me in Dockers.

David provided an accompanying article to go with his email. Here it is. It's kind of funny, but you can see where it might have been a little better had he or I had anything to do with it. I'm just sayin'......

Of course, now that I think about it - I'm not sure why David sent this to me? What does it say about me? What does it say about what he thinks of me? Hmmmm.... I'll have to ponder this for a bit.

Ok....I'm done.

He just likes to push buttons. Mine. And that's ok. He does it with humour and he makes me laugh. And I now know what I'll be getting for the holidays! (psssst.....I prefer olive.)


Song by: Sparks

Purple People

GLAAD is doing this thing today for folks to wear purple to, and I quote: show your support for the teens who took their lives because of anti-LGBT bullying.

As you know, I'm all for supporting the the stopping of bullying, but it seems to me that GLAAD could use someone to help them construct a proper sentence.

I don't really think wearing purple will do much of anything. It's like when (and maybe they still do it) for National Coming Out Day, to wear - get this - jeans (!!!) to support gay people. All of the sudden 83% of student at The Ohio State University seemingly happened to suddenly support gay folk coming out. Uhhhhhh-huhhhhhh!

In theory, if teens didn't want to be bullied, not wearing purple is probably a good start.

Hey - I'm just saying.

But I get that it is about you being you and not backing down to the jeers that insecure straight teens give off to those that are not just like them. Those straight guys are just dicks, and deep down they know it.

Me? I'm pretty comfortable wearing purple and I own a number of dress shirts in that colour, so I'm good. And at least this day, I'd say, gives me a reason to wear one, but I don't need a reason.

However, if you remember from months back, I had a few custom made shirts created for me - one being an eggplant colour with white pin stripes. It's such a nice shirt, I'm embarrassed to say I've been afraid to wear it, not because I'd be bullied, but because I think it's too nice. But today I am donning for the cause and for the blog.

Denton looked at me in the shirt this morning and said, 'you look like a French dandy......we'll you are a French dandy!' Who needs to go outdoors to get bullied?? Sheesh.

Anyway, you get the test shot of me in the shirt. The actual shots with it buttoned up - my face looked horrible. I do not recommend taking pictures right out of bed with puffy pillow face.


Song by: Tori Amos

The Emperor's New Clothes

Oh, how I hate to shop.

As my friend Jon pointed out via the comment section the other day, I don't know chintz from Chinoiserie and I can't tell the difference between a Champagne from a prosecco.

I don't like frou-frou food. I do like sports. And I loathe having to shop - especially for clothes.

I'm a gay man, not gay-acting. Yeah - you can all shut your pie-holes.

Yesterday, between yard work, exercise and well, lunch, we went and did some shopping for clothes. Mostly bum-around clothes.....or as I call them, non-work clothes.

But even buying jeans, socks and underwear, to me is just a painful event. Like museum fatigue, I get store fatigue, but faster and a more acute case. g-d help us all whenever I have to get suits and dress shoes!

It was just the casual wear where we dropped way too much money. I guess not really. We just do not update wardrobe that much. We're kind of lesbianic that way. But I was in need of jeans and sweats. Winter's a-comin'.

But oy, I hate trying on jeans - as you can see in the above picture. I didn't even keep my old pair on. btw.....I do have briefs on, so I'm not nekkid under that flannel and t shirt.

I did have this very brief supernova of seemingly good luck with the first pair of jeans I put on: a 32" waist that fit! The rest of the jeans were "loose fit" and I didn't like the overall look. But I can't tell you how long it's been since 32" even remotely fit me. Over a decade for sure.

I remember back during the 1980 Winter Olympics reading the Eric Heiden's thighs were 29" wide. My then-scrawny waist wasn't yet 29", let alone my thighs. Oh, how times change.

I tried a more "regular cut:, and well, I could get into the 32" version and they looked good, but you know it wouldn't take much for them to be a wee bit too tight (probably one cookie), so I went to 34", which are just fine.

Still - 34" isn't bad. For me. Lately. A few years back, I had made it up to 37" at one point. I did make it to back down to 35" last year, but most places do not stock odd sized waist sizes. So I'm now down a little further and wouldn't mind getting down to a comfortable 32".

Of course, many clothes manufacturers now fib about the size of their clothing to make folks, like me, feel better about themselves and their purchases. Hell, I might still be a 37" waist, but I'm not about to take out a tape measure to find out. Ignorance is bliss, so they say. Let me have my moment.

The bottom line is I got a pair of jeans, two pairs of sweats and some new underwear before I called the little outing to be over, no new shirts be damned. It was less painful for me to go cut the lawn and do the laundry.

Now I don't need to go back to a store until, like, April!



Song by: Sinéad O'Connor

Rattlesnake Shake

I'm sure by the time I publish this, it will be all around the internets and back again. Oh well. It is a problem with only posting once per day, but I am drafting this at 18:48 about six hours before publishing.

For the four of you who haven't seen it yet....... (click image to enlarge)


Yes, apparently this guy put the 'banana' in Banana Republic.

There are images floating around the web but I didn't steal anyone else's. I went directly to the BR website and poof - there it was.

I never shop there, let alone shop on-line there, but maybe it is something to rethink. And yes, while people are seeing what they think they want to see, I'm 98% sure it's just a crease or material malfunction and not a big ole peen dressing to the left.

But I'm sure I won't be able to sway the naysayers and BR will be taking down the image maybe even before you click on that highlighted link up above.

Or maybe - just maybe - it is a great marketing tool (hehehe, I said "tool") to get people to come see and possibly buy their Tailored Herringbone (hehehe...I said "bone") suit pants.

Yeah, that's more likely the scenario I'm gonna go with.


Song by: Fleetwood Mac

This Shirt

Yesterday I did one of the more extravagant things I have ever done for myself: I ordered three custom dress shirts!

Made to order. Not Maid to Order. That was a horrid horrid movie with Ally Sheedy and Michael Ontkean, that you will see some morons rated as 4.5 stars on amazon. Jon will try to deny it, but we actually saw it at the Olentangy cinemas. I have no idea what we were thinking. We were probably still riding high on her performance in Short Circuit.

Normally, I'd never do something like this - the movie or the shirts - but it was kind of for a good cause. A local um....tailor? men's shoppe? haberdasher? was doing this in association with Big Brothers.

It's not Big Brother, that Kenneth on 30 Rock does work for. “Oh, Big Brother isn’t affiliated with the mentoring program. It’s an organization that secretly watches people and makes sure they’re behaving properly."

No, this is actually Big Brothers/Big Sisters. One of my co-workers, and former boss, is the chairman of the local organization. He's a great guy and it was hard to say 'no'. And it was a decent deal.

The first shirt was only $45 - and hell, it's custom made. And half the price goes directly to the BB/BS organization - so it's almost like I'm paying $23 for the shirt. Any additional shirts were slightly more, but still half the cost going to the mentoring program.

I got measured to within an inch of my life - neck, arms, waist, chest, wrists...blah blah blah. Then got to pick my collar, pleat, pocket and cuff types. I opted for no monogramming on the sleeve. I'm not that guy.

So I got a really one nice white shirt, a beautiful blue one, and then went way out there and picked a deep purple (eggplant, if you will) that had white pin stripes. The last one seems like I'll look totally pimped out. It will be harder to coordinate that with suits and such, but something I didn't ever have nor could easily find in a store.

I guess I've come into my own. I don't know I'll be able to go back to.....shudder....store bought shirts!



Song by: Mary Chapin Carpenter

I Can't Wait

Normally, I don't take pictures at the gym....mainly because normally I don't have my iPhone in the gym. I have a Nano for my music while working out. But on Sunday, I forgot the Nano - and if I'm spending 30-45 minutes on the elliptical, I need a musical distraction. So I actually used my iPhone.

What sucks is, the shorts I was wearing had no pockets and I have no arm strap for the device, so I had to hold it for all my work out. Very difficult to do.

But since I had it, I thought I'd snap a few shots....if nothing else, to prove I do go to a gym.

Here I is, in the Big Boy Weight Room - which I've just started to get the nerve to go back into. Normally, I'm on the Nautilus equipment, but I'm trying to be a man. TRYING! (menwithiphones.com - I'm still waiting for my big debut!)

This is kinda sad. These are my new cross-training shoes. My first new pair. It's not that I've gone to the gym barefoot (except at yoga), it's that I've been cheap and have just gotten hand-me-down shoes from the BF and my 16 year old nephew!!!!

I'm not really cheap - not really. I'm just a bit pathetic. Oh - and I loathe shopping. The used shoes never really fit, but then until a few months ago, I never truly wore them for work-out, just bike rides and to cut the lawn.

And though my purchase didn't provide the title of the post, I went with a round-about means, since the group name did.

No, the above image is not an illusion. Nor is it trick photography. With those above hairy legs (and new shoes), I can push out 260 pounds. Probably 280, but I'm not trying to hurt myself.

Today is day two of yoga. And I'm doing it over lunch. But with out shoes.



Song by: Nu Shooz

Don't Ask Me to Choose

Yesterday the mailstudman brought me a present. One of my oft used phrases, by way of Lisa Simpson and Ralph Wiggum, on a t-shirt.

...and yes, I've used it at least twice in Valentine posts. And now I have a shirt to go with those posts and fond Simpsons memories.

But it was not from "my beloved" that cho-cho-chose me. Well, maybe it was. I don't know. I'm so confused.

I mean, it was not from the man I've spent the last 20+ years with. You'd think that would be the obvious choice - but that's not how we operate. Unless one of us is traveling and then we might surprise each other with a little gift.

No, it was Rebecca. Maybe she loves me more. {sigh}

How fun!

Way back when "blogging" was new(er), I surprised her with a Blogger t-shirt and mug. I thought it would be fun. This was before WordPress and all the other sites existed. Certainly before more and more people started hosting themselves. ...and it was also before I had a blog.

Anyway, this shirt totally brought a smile to my face. I thought I'd call her immediately and then thought better of it. Not better - but different - of it.

Wouldn't it be more fun....or funner....or funnerer...to log on to my blog and see the shirt you bought someone? and they were wearing it? and they were writing about it? and writing about them?

Of course, I always write about Rebecca. If it weren't for her, I'd only have about 500 entries and not 1500.

The bestest thing about the shirt? It's a Large. Not an Xtra-Large. And it fits. g-d love her for affirming my work-out routine. A risky gamble though. An ill fitting shirt could have sent me into a shame spiral that would last until Friday's happy hour.

I also didn't realize my forearms were that hairy. I look so manly. ....kind of like a certain cab driver in Los Angeles, eh Morty?

Of course, now I feel obligated to get her a t-shirt that says "Look in the tunk".



Song by: Fine Young Cannibals