Who'da thunk it?

(Jenn commissioned me to write something on her family's blog and the following is it. Read it if you would like. Any bow tie mentionings are references of Jenn's brother-in-law. That is all.)

It’s not uncommon for me to board the bus in the morning sans tie. Usually this stems from the fact that I don’t have the time to put it on (I wait until I get to the office), or the fact that I want to be as inconspicuous as possible on my bus ride—I already stick out like a sore thumb simply because I wear a collared shirt and don’t talk to myself.

Whenever I stay late at work, I usually take off my tie. Sometimes it goes home with me in my bag, while other times it goes on a hanger in my office.Well, everything was pretty normal this last Tuesday—I woke up at 4:30., ran an easy 10 miles, did a quick 300 pushups and got ready for work—you know, the normal routine. Anyway, I didn’t think twice before leaving the house without a tie, as I suspected that I would have a plethora at work that I could choose from. What I forgot was that about a week earlier, I took them all home (for some reason, my wife thinks I should wear one to church).

So I get to work and find my tie hanger empty except for one lowly tie lying crumpled underneath it on the floor. As I stoop to pick up tie off the ground, I suddenly come to the realization that this once belonged to my wise and successful father-in-law. I forgot exactly how I came in possession of the grey and maroon-striped masterpiece. It looked like it jumped right out of a Beatles album cover (or the DI bin). I didn’t know what to do—I had to wear a tie at work but I was hesitant to put on the only tie available for a number of reasons, the least of which was the fact that it didn’t match what I was wearing. I also felt I hadn’t “earned” the right to wear it. I mean, this tie had probably witnessed the Kennedy assassination, the first moon-landing, or even the invention of the cotton gin. You can’t just put on an heirloom like that without some deep thought and meditation involved. Alas, dress code was dress code. The day’s business was starting so I reluctantly tied the knot, checked for deacon’s disease, and hoped I wouldn’t draw too much attention to myself.

Well, to make a long story even longer, I didn’t make it to noon without getting two different compliments on the beloved tie. Throw in one more compliment after lunch and it was the most compliments I had ever received on a tie choice ever—three more then the next most.

Well, as they say, the rest is history—I’m coming to terms with the fact that I may seriously need to reassess my current tie rotation. I make it through about six or seven before I start over—I will have to make room for this one.I believe this tie can single-handedly take me places in my career that I had once only dreamed of—I’m sure it “will make my wildest dreams come true.”

Now, I can only imagine my success if it was a bow tie…