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tie fighter
06/24/2010 = 12:43 PM

So this is later than I meant for it to be, quite obviously.

I had it largely put together in my skull, but last weekend, when this was timely and topical, I had to make choices: spend my energy writing a blog, or spend my energy going to work, where they pay me.

I guess that would make me a sellout, except for the bit about being a responsible adult — paying bills; keeping a roof over my head; buying vegetables and shit.

Anyway.

This kid who does a site about neckties wanted me to repost his post about necktie cakes for Father's Day, presumably to drive some traffic his way.

Much as I like cake, dressed up or no, I don't roll like that. If I didn't write it, chances are it's not going in here.

However, you can click the following link (opens in a new browser window) to read his post, and then you can come back here, where I shall be riffing a bit about neckties, and dads.

http://www.tiepedia.com/tie-blog/49-crafts/155-tie-cake

When I was a tiny kid, my kindergarten teacher asked me to draw a picture of my house.

I drew the house (easy, it was small and white) and also put a drawing of my dad in the picture.

Actually, it wasn't my dad. This dad had a full head of hair and wore a necktie.

I told my teacher that this was what my dad looked like when he came home from work, because I was pretty sure it wasn't normal that my dad a) was bald on top; b) came home from work early in the morning, not at 5:00 pm; and c) wore a khaki shirt and brown trousers, not a necktie.

I think I wanted to fool everyone into believing that Mike Brady was my dad.

Ultimately, I'm glad he wasn't.

Our kitchen was avocado, not burnt orange.

When a cake was required, the Mom made it herself (deliciously, all the time) and didn't relegate the task to a housekeeper.

Mr. Brady would have had to call a repairman to fix my 8-track player (or bought a new one), and he would have had to pay to have my flute overhauled. He could have afforded it, but I probably would have had to listen to a lecture, soundtracked with sappy music.

My dad, in his khaki workshirt and brown trousers, fixed my 8-track player every time it broke until he was physically incapable of doing so, and the time my flute needed an overhaul we couldn't afford, he did it himself with borrowed plumbing equipment, and it hasn't needed an overhaul since.

Moreover, I didn't have to hear him tell me to be more careful of my property. I got a hug and the words, "Don't worry about it. Daddy will fix it."

My dad was not completely without the finer sensibilities. He never fought the Mom on wearing a tie to synagogue, for a wedding, for a funeral, for a dinner to a nice restaurant.

But given a choice, he liked his brown workshirt for work, and his atrocious navy blue shirt with the fruit all over it for more casual attire.

Also, when it came to cake, he only really liked it if the Mom made it; if there were going to be non-homemade refreshments, he would vastly prefer a doughnut, or cookies (if there was coffee for dunking).

I never saw Mr. Brady dunk a cookie into his coffee. He was probably worried about dripping wet crumbs onto his tie.

So I'm leaving the necktie cakes to Matty the necktie blogger, and just being grateful to my dad for not being Mike Brady.

Tags: Father's Day; neckties

drinking: powerade
listening to: Coldplay, Viva la Vida
next several weeks: working 40 hrs regular and 10 hrs overtime