Thursday, June 7, 2012

Trad-Ivy Tuesday

…will now appear whenever. I ran out of Tuesday before I ran out of stuff to do. So till whenever, here’s a small flurry of ADG Randomanalia to hold you—as if you need holding. I damn sure do.
The further decline in sartorial rigor and deportment in general…if you read my tumblr, you probably caught the text that I posted from LFG. My little gal who turns 12 (I cannot believe it) in three weeks texted me and told me not to wear a sportcoat to her dance recital last Friday night. I am the only parent who does and LFG is at that age where she wants nothing in her world to stand out/be different/manifest outlier status/draw attention. I have, in my effort to maintain some standard of not looking like one of the school kids, become an embarrassment to my little gal. I did upon her request, leave the above sportcoat in the car. She was elated.
You’ll see fewer photos of LFG on my blog from now on. I won’t belabor the point but she’s getting older and it’s appropriate that I allow her a higher level of privacy as she becomes the stellar young lady that I see blossoming before my eyes.
Her dance recital was great and it’s evident that she’s really found her passion in dance. I hate that we no longer play soccer—it was a venue where I could be more involved and also get the additional chance to see her on the non-LFG weekend Saturdays. Nothing traumatic brewing and nothing unusual amidst the current trend…but I’m having to schedule appointments to get access to my little gal. As many of you have told me… “She’s at that age…” You can tell me all day long. I still don't have to like it. 
Acheson…I learned so many interesting things about the man that I’ve got one more Acheson post in the queue.
But I decided against doing a post on Trad Swimwear. Mainly because I don’t give a damn about it.
On an entirely irrelevant note (Isn’t all of this irrelevant), I’ll brag about my work for just a minute. I spoke in Dallas a couple of months ago to a group of about five hundred home care—hospice professionals. I did a one hour keynote on the value of their services amidst the complexities of the current healthcare economic environment. (Outside of the sartorial realm, I am unequivocally a wonk-nerd/one trick pony professionally) One of you a couple of years ago posted a comment on one of my stories and you speculated whether I spoke the way I write—and if so—people would pay the ask just to have me talk on any subject. I got a chuckle out of that comment and appreciated the speculation. My gifts are modest but like Max Beerbohm posited about his…I’ve learned to leverage my gifts…as modest as they may be. So after I finished the talk, I had to dash from the podium and grab a cab to the airport. As I was making my way to the door, a hospice nurse thrust this card into my hand. And before you start the snide comments (if I was reading this, I’d be the first one to throw out a snarky remark about ADG bragging...and the word that we all can't seem to decipher on the card is (sp) "rejuvenate") …NO, she was not some little trixie who wanted to “get together next time you are in town.” She was sincere and I was humbled. I think good hospice professionals are truly living their mission—their dharma. And professionally, I know that I’m living mine. Don't ask me about my personal dharma. Thank you. 
But I also picked up some extry money last Sunday when I did a little baby sitting. You should see this boy’s mama. And LFG loves this little fella too. She calls him her "squishy little love nugget." I don't know where in the world she gets those lines from.
I’ll write at some point over the summer, more about my move to Chevy Chase/Bethesda. I need to be around the corner from LFG and the Corner Slice pizza joint that she and I have come to enjoy.
You’ll soon get an expose regarding my upcoming hair transplant surgery that I’ve budgeted for.
Cleverley posts are also in the queue. Here’s Cleverley’s Dominic Casey. I took him to dinner the other week when he was in D.C. I ordered a Stoli martini and he figured he’d like to try one too. After one sip, he eventually regained his normal respiration…looked at me and essentially said that it seemed impossible that someone as small as me could drink such a thing. He declared the cocktail to be…“tricky”. I declare that if you drink enough of ‘em, you get good at it. I then drank his too. Tricky D. Shut up.
My next automobile centric post will extol the dangers of ADD people trying to do their own rallye stripe projects. Don’t. Do it.
San Francisco...I have two more stories from my trip. One will focus on my bespoke green gator card case commission.
Kinda like the redundancy of another Hemingway, Fitzgerald or Robert E. Lee biography, I figured that the subject of good ole starched khakis had been done and done and done. But a tumblr reader’s question has sparked a khaki post idea. I’ll get to it. Whenever.
And speaking of Tuesday. Listen to General Johnson's take on it. This is one of a handful of songs that transport me back to the KA summer party or Spring Break at Ocean Drive and The Pad or Providence Road Sundries in Charlotte or the Tally Ho or the Library or Wits End in Columbia or Bubbas out near the Highway Department in Florence or the Chinese Disco in D.C. It reminds me of how quickly I realized that if you were a even an average shagger, girls would talk to you and dance with you. And all of the previously mentioned honky tonks were packed by eleven pm and were one hundred degrees inside. How starched were your khakis? Weejuns shined to a mirror glazed buff? Tanned ankles? A little bit too much sun on your face from earlier in the day? Tan lines popping on the shoulders of pretty girls in sun dresses. It mattered who you dated and how much liquor you could drink. 

Onward. Till Tuesday ADG II


Laguna Beach Fogey said...

At first glance (admittedly blurred by alcohol) I thought the card read:

"Thank you for regurgitating me"

Must lay off cocktails, especially at 3:30 in the morning.

M.Lane said...

A lot of great future post ideas, I can't wait to read them all.

My Future Rock Star is now 15 and just about everything I do is an embarassment it seems. A LONG fall from the position of demi-god I held when he was 6. I hope this is not as far a fall when your child is a girl.

Of course, part of this may be related to the fact that a certain percentage of my conduct could actually be considered embarassing.


heavy tweed jacket said...

Great post and idea for a regular series. I like the juxtaposition of martinis and starched khakis - they belong together. More Acheson, please.

ADG said...

LagunaEarl...You aren't too far off the mark. Three people on the front row DID regurgitate.

M.Lane...It IS gonna be as far a fall and I'm amidst it now. Not liking it one bit.

HeavyTweedMon...thanks. Do you want me to send you the Acheson Country book? You'll love it.

Turling said...

I'm with LBF, I thought it said the same thing. Granted, for the same inebriated reason.

The Leopard said...

Tan lines popping on the shoulders of pretty girls in sun dresses. Pure poetry, it reminds me of all the beautiful girls I went to college with, in a bizarro world coincidence I was listening to Cinammon Girl on my ipod as I read your blog and thanks to this harmonic convergence I have been transported back to TCU in 1977 and I'm no good for the rest of the day, I warned you about these time machine blogs, thanks.

Phil Asby said...

Madras shirt, starched khakis and polished weejuns, check. Along with a middling to better lead on the shag floor (depending on the lady flourished with pretzels and what we called the death drop ... a risky move depending on the volume of beer or bourbon consumed...) was a recipe for any positive summer night...

Patsy said...

When I was a kid, I don't think I ever saw a father at a school event who wasn't wearing a suit. Granted, most of them came straight from the bar car, er, train station.

Donald said...

Wait 'till she's in college, and you're paying the bills. You'll be a hero again.

College or no, she will feel like Mark Twain: "But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years."

Anonymous said...

Bless her heart, LFG thinks that completely anonymous mouse of a beige jacket is a "sportcoat." If she only knew. And she will. In due time.

I just buried my friend, but for the last week of her life I witnessed first hand exactly what Hospice and a local home health agency provided together for this too-young person dying at home: dignity in death. It was a seamless performance which took place completely in the background as the family came and went. Extremely inspirational to watch them do what they do. Max, I'd give anything to know what you said to those professionals, I have no doubt you were "amazing" as you spoke the keynote that day.


ilovelimegreen said...

1) I read the note as "regurgitating" as well. No comment on inebriation
2) Love, love, love those bathing trunks
3) You do speak the way you write.

ilovelimegreen said...

PS- You need to take Miss LFG to Stromboli's on Wisconsin- try the onion rings.

Gail, in northern California said...

I agree with Flo. Last Saturday my daughter and I and a whole host of other volunteers helped our local hospice with their latest fundraiser. A ticket provided a stroll through a huge and beautiful garden, barbecue for lunch, and friends. We all pitched in because in one way or another our lives have been touched by the work of hospice staff. And, like Flo, they cared for my best friend the last days of her life.
I could not do what they do day-after-day-after-day. I, too, would love to know what you said that revitalized that hospice worker.

CeceliaMc said...

If there's anyone who might need rejuvenating it must be people who render that sort of service.

I'm happy for you. That you had must be one of the best feelings in the world.

Mink80 said...


Starched khakis.....this W&L boy knows all about those....University Cleaners in Lex Vegas taught me how.

Sold clubs or MUST come to Bmore and play......

njglenn said...

ADG I sincerely feel you pain. Today my 10goingon16 year old daughter chose to walk to school rather than risk one of her friends seeing her Dad in his patch madras (shut steal a phrase) pants. Even thought I don't get out of the car. she told me it's bad enough that we drive up in a Mini with Union Jack mirror covers.

ADG said...

NJGlenn...I was mentioning your comment to someone this afternoon. It's a slipperier slope and a faster descent for us from this point on. Just the beginning so I've learned.

Mink80...Roger that.

CMac...It's a calling for sure.

Gail...I didn't say anything fancy and I'm not a motivational speaker per se. I NEVER pass myself off as one and I don't set an expectation for that being a deliverable. I just reinforced for them, with data, why what they do is not only sublime from a humanitarian perspective but also the right thing for the economics of end of life care.

LimeGreener...Strombolis...I'll have to check it out. The trunks? Nah.

Flo...thanks. Your experience is exactly what I saw when I went to say goodbye to my buddy REB. I hear. So I hear.

Patsy...Me too. But some of the guys at LFG's events...I KNOW FOR A at the World Bank and at big pecker law firms etc. They must change into their urban butt crack gear in the car.

PhilAsby...Right on. I was slicker than snot on a doorknob with the Pretzel till it became too "done" and I went back to the more basic shitake. The Death Drop...I can see it in my mind's eye right now. I was never man enough to do it.

Leopard...but the time machine stories are FUN to write. I could do an entire blog devoted to them.

Anonymous said...

Looking forward to more on Acheson.....and LOVED Sundries! Spent lots of time there in the 80's and Dear Husband lived just around the corner on Hanson Drive....which later became our first house. Remember the Sundries house accounts? They'd send you a bill once a month. And the blackboard above the bar where they wrote the names of those who didn't pay. Public humiliation in Myers Park! LOL

Ian from Downunder said...

Another great post ADG.

I've ordered the Acheson book from Amazon (Abe books) so thanks for bringing it to my attention.

Warmest regards,
Ian (alias Lucas McCain) from Downunder.

ADG said...

Ian...I STILL laugh about your misfortune and I'm STILL gonna do a post about it. You'll enjoy the Acheson book.

Classic Preppy...I remember the Sundries blackboard and am glad to say that I never made that club.

Young Fogey said...

Where are you gonna transplant the hair from?

I don't understand starched khakis--I mean, sure, I know they exist, but I don't grok them in the least--so am looking forward to your post on same.

ADG said...

FogeyYoung...I "get" why you don't get it and after I explain, you probably still won't agree. But that's one of the things that makes all of this kinda fun, no?