TYING ONE ON

Last week I promised to divulge who shot JR (for those of you who care.)  It was Kristen Shepherd, JR’s sister-in-law.  Kristen was played by Mary Crosby, daughter of Bing Crosby, and in my humble opinion it is doubtful she would have ever made it as an actress had it not been for her famous father.  This was actually kind of a let down for me, as I never liked her to begin with and didn’t feel her character added anything to the show.  But there you have it.

On to a new topic—my husband, whom I haven’t written about recently. My husband has an amazing number of excellent qualities.  Fashion sense is not one of them.  Most of the time he wears blue jeans or khakis, so this is not a problem.  On Sundays, however, I am often consulted about which ties go with which shirts and pants.  My husband loves ties and has a huge collection.  Somewhere along the line, however, he acquired one (from where, I do not know) which I kindly refer to as the “butt ugly” (BU) tie.

The BU tie has a brown background, the shade of which I have never seen before except in baby poop, covered with a pattern of gold leaf-like foliage.  It is quite busy and probably would be ugly on any background, but the baby poop brown . . .  Every so often he will trot out this tie and ask if it goes with whatever he is wearing.  My answer is always the same.

“No, that tie doesn’t go with what you’re wearing.  It doesn’t go with anything you own.”  For that matter, it probably doesn’t go with anything anyone else owns, either, but I refrain from saying this.

“But I have on a yellow shirt,” he will attempt to argue.

“You’re also wearing blue pants.  The brown does not go with the blue.  Maybe if you got some brown pants you could wear that tie.”

“I don’t like brown pants,” he will say.

“Then you really don’t have anything that goes with that BU tie.”

He will look hurt for a moment.  “I like this tie,” he’ll mutter.

You’re the only one, I will think, but never say.

So the tie will go back into the closet for another few months before the ritual is repeated.

A while back, my husband’s brother and his wife came to visit for a few days, and my brother-in-law forgot to bring a tie for church. My husband told him to take his pick of the multitude of beautiful ties hanging in his closet.  Guess which one he picked.  Seriously.

“Hah!” my husband crowed.  “Look at which tie David picked!”

“Not the BU tie.”  I couldn’t believe my eyes.  “Well, at least he’s wearing brown pants.”

“What’s wrong with this tie?” my brother-in-law queried.

There was nothing I could say.  Obviously the lack of fashion sense is a genetic defect which runs in my husband’s family.  You can’t explain that to people who just don’t get it.

 

 

 

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