Bow Ties and National Security

I do strategy for a living. Nothing can be made more esoteric and fraught with bullshit than strategy. Especially if consultants get a hold of it. One of the things I do is try to get the MBA-speak and Military-esque strategy jargon off the dashboard when I’m with clients. Then and only then can I assist them in making sound and tough decisions. My experience has shown me that we all too often hide behind strategy dogma and jargon in an attempt to avoid courageous decisions and individual accountability. And if you really want to make a confusing discipline even richer in bullshit, try reading one the hundreds of bastardized versions  of The Art of War that exist in the public domain. You’ll be after fifty pages, amidst a Goat Rodeo of epic proportion. Teetotalers have been known to take to drink after such an effort.

But if you must venture into the world of the SunTzu, I suggest only one version.  The Denma Translation Group has done in my humble opinion, the best job of sorting out some of the truest intent manifest in the tome. You are on your own if you insist on the flagellations known as things like “The Art of War for Golf/Gardening/Marriage/Homeschooling” or any of the other drivel out there.

And if you really want to take a deep dive into the mind of a strategic savant, Boyd is a must read. He lived around the corner from me when I first moved to Alexandria Virginia and I never knew him. 

After you finish Boyd, I’d then suggest you take up Certain to Win by Chet Richards.

So what about bow ties? I found an old photo the other day from my National Security Forum week in 2003. Bet you can’t find me in the lineup.  Strategy guys somehow end up involved in these types of things and all from my shop have attended at one time or another. The Air Force War College…Air University at Maxwell Air Force Base is a fascinating place. We’ve been there quite a few times as guests of the NSF as well as participants and speakers at other Air University classes and programs. I’m humbled every time I go.

And if there’s ever a time that I know NOT to roll in with dice fuzzy, it’s here. Navy blazer and bow ties all week. Alden Whiskey Shell Cordovan Tassels. Shut up.

But one thing troubled me when I left the NSF in 2003. SunTzu said that a “prophet is rarely valued in his own land.” The depth of intellectual and academic thoroughness with which the Middle East and Iran-Iraq-Afghanistan, specifically, is dissected astounds me. But it seems that our politicians don’t listen carefully to our own War College academics. Men and women who’ve studied the Region their entire professional lives; who posses insights that seem to have never been considered when strategy was set for our role in the Region. I’m just gonna leave it right there folks. Do yourself a favor and wrangle an invitation to the NSF. Then we’ll talk about all of this again…live…over drinks.

The intellectual energy found at the War College is thrilling. Full time academics work and teach amidst Air Force officers who are there to hone their skills and advance their careers. The first time I visited Air University I heard speak a retired Colonel who was in the first graduating class of the Tuskegee Airmen. One of my business partners spoke after him and I was just glad that I didn’t have to follow Colonel Carter at the podium. We later had lunch with him and the experience remains today, one of my most treasured.

The Red Tails were disenfranchised airmen who with substandard equipment and limited resources became revered bomber escorts. The Tuskegee Airmen never lost a bomber.

Onward. Strategically. In a bow tie. And a Red Tail.

ADG

What Happened At The Giant...

...grocery store.

Anonymous said...

"Your devoted fans want to know what happened at the Giant on Saturday".

The reason Anonymous said that is because I said...

…”If all you want to do is get laid, save your match.com money and simply wear that rig to the grocery store. That would be the Giant grocery store in Old Town Alexandria…4:15 pm tomorrow afternoon. I’ll have my coon skin cap on”.

And then MegTown over at PigTown Design emailed me this article from the Washington Post. Kinda sums it up I reckon.

Nothing...Is What We Have

So read this Guest Post over at Blushing Hostess....from a zillion years ago.

And I wrote a little ditty over here for my fellow South Carolinian, Belle over at Life of a Southern Belle

Shut Up

Foghat

I kid you not—I had a bad dream last night. Real bad. I was at a Foghat Concert by myself. And this, just after I told Toad in a response to one of his comments, that my pathos and neuroses weren’t complex.  Damn. And I never saw Foghat. Never even had to endure them while waiting for a main act.

Even a Bay City Rollers dream would have been better than dreaming about Foghat. At least they did some whimsical things with color and pattern. Foghat—perhaps the gnarliest three chord bunch ever assembled. 

The only thing that might have trumped this Foghat dream would perhaps be one where maybe I was in a hot tub. With Barry White.

I am not and never was, a fool for the city.

Onward…tentatively…sans LFG.

A D G

Trad Week: A Random Review

If you think my previous posts have been random and lacking gravitas then this one's gonna kill you. I'm blessed with tons of rewarding work to do and very little time to create even remotely well thought out blog posts…not that mine are ever too well contrived. Would you rather have daily random drivel or one or two more substantive (voluminous) posts from me each week?


Consistent with my previous randomanalia, I’m just gonna empty another one of my arbitrary files…

     You might remember a post I did last year titled "Three Boxes". The boxes included tons of divorce documents and random keepsakes from previous lives. Took me three days to recover from reliving the contents of those boxes. My New Orleans post manifested from those three boxes and I believe that God had a hand in that post not being recovered after I lost all my blog entries. And no, I won't be recreating that one.
     The good news is that I can now shred tons of the documents that for legal reasons I've had to keep till now. The other promising news is that as I reviewed yet again these three boxes, I felt no tug, no hitch in my gut, no tear duct activation...this is a good thing. I also found some wedding photos this time that didn't bother me a bit to gander. I'm saving them for LFG. Which brings me to one photo particularly... 
     Ever heard of the Sports Illustrated Cover Jinx? You end up on the cover and your performance wanes. I have a hybrid belief involving marriage. If your wedding is a blast…the parties’ all fun and the reception is one for the record books then look out.

And if your wedding photo ends up in Town and Country, you’re doomed. I think this photo of the former Mrs. ADG is distant enough that I don't have to blur out her pretty little face. My bottom line is this…the more fun and festive the wedding, the tougher the marriage will be. Don’t challenge me on this—I can’t defend my position.

Blurry and grainy iPhone picture from the Four Seasons in DC the other evening. I'm not one to name drop but I had a drink with Sir Paul McCartney. Ok, so he was at the other end of the bar but still.
     Amiable, jaunty, unassuming and not shrouded with fifteen burly body guards. Perhaps McCartney doesn't define himself as one of the greatest song makers ever.

Let's talk shoes for a moment. Can anyone provide an update regrading whether or not the Mark McNairy line of Bass Weejuns are gonna make it into full production? Notice the blue tassel baby.

I've got a clever pair of shoddings or two here at CasaMinimus but my stalwart Navy Blue Weejuns from college remain my faves. McNairy could, if the Bass powers that be will let him, bring relevance back to the brand.

But then there's an American maker that has the hubris to concoct these monk-algonquin-split toe hybrid babies. In whiskey shell cordovan. Fuzzy mongrels poster child if I've ever seen one. Sign my country ass up.

And a final word on things pedal. Guys aren't the only ones losing a sense of style, propriety and decorum from the ankles down. Enjoy this pic from the Avis Preferred shuttle bus at DFW last week. And these gals weren't on vacation. They had briefcases and work documents. Sad.


Ok, let's talk LFG.... THE love of my life.

She'll be ten years old in three weeks. The pierced ears debate has been a protracted one. We decided twelve would be a good age for this seminal event. Someone's calendar pages flipped faster than mine. To that end, LFG and her little girlfriends had a big ole girlie event at the ear piercing place. I'm ok with it but it just kills me that my baby is growing up.

LFG did shame me into getting a proper haircut. Look at that clean cut guy in the mirror. You can't see the martini that's about to pounce on this little hunk. Ok, I woke up.

Any other kids out there jumping on the Zany Band craze? LFG and her friends are collecting and trading these things. I bought her a couple of packs as a reward for doing such a good job on her book report the other weekend. I love these fads but I love them more when they only cost me five bucks.

I spotted this little cutie and her brother in the airport the other day. LFG would have gleefully traded a band or two with her. 

LFG gave me two zany bands from the "famous icons" (or whatever) package. The Sherlock Holmes is tres cool but I can't figure out who the other guy is. Someone suggested Alfred Hitchcock but the nose is too pointy. Who is it?

Further evidence that God exists....

My beloved but on it's last legs Saab convertible passed inspection. A car purchase is inevitable before summers end but I'm not gonna expedite it.

And while they were inspecting my buggy I walked next door to an antiques/used furniture consignment shop. 

I AM gonna do a post on Campaign Furniture when I find the time. But I'm also gonna.....

Buy this old wicker campaign recliner if it's still there after June 16th...when the price goes to two hundred bucks. I'll put it in my office and for some of you, if you play your cards right, an invitation to come and sit on my lap may be forthcoming.

And finally, back to cars for a moment....

This was Porsche's darkest moment ever. Wrong. So wrong. On too many levels to ponder.

Onward. I'm going to pick up my baby from soccer practice.

ADG

April Food Day and Boatneck Sweaters

LFG and I remain blessed beyond measure. The economic-cash flow challenges that I felt in 2008 and half of 2009 are laughable compared to the ongoing challenges that thousands of families are facing. LFG and I shared a New York Strip and Mac and Cheese (her menu contribution) outside last night-sitting in Adirondack Chairs. Perhaps since the news consistently reminds us that people are struggling, it gets a bit easier for us to hear "yet another story about the unfortunate hungry". I can assure you that it's not getting any easier to be-unfortunate and hungry. Anything you can send....remember how meaningful and inspirational the Widow's Mite was....click here and donate

Now on to Boatneck Sweaters

I play this game sometimes and today is the perfect day for it because I'm running about half-throttle. We've got some respiratory junk going on over here at Casa Minimus. Here's my game... If the house was on fire and I could take only one material thing with me-by category-what would it be? One piece of furniture-one painting-one book-one … whatever. I would in the sweater category, after assuring that you if you were visiting, and LFG if she was in residence-were safely out the door-grab this, my Boatneck sweater. Thick cotton-no logos-no treatments-no buttons. Just a navy blue sweater.

I reluctantly wore a sweater two days ago. Albeit a cotton one, a sweater in September none the less. The chill here is just enough to warrant a bit of cover that if not removed, won’t have you too uncomfortable by midday. On a side note-someone asked why I don't offer a hearty grin in these self captured shots. That's an easy answer for me to provide. I've never felt sillier in my life than when I'm shooting pictures to post on this blog. It's painful for me to even do it at all-much less muster any effervescence to accompany the snap.

Some of the things that I most treasure are simple. My Polo-Ralph cotton Boatneck sweater lands clearly in the category of simple abundance. Basic sweater-abundance of utility. This old rag would be one of the key exhibits for my argument in favor of buying quality things when you can afford to do so. I bought this navy blue one and a cream one in 1983. This twenty seven year old sweater wears better than ever and will probably outlast me.

Case in point. Here's a photo of said Boatneck about twenty five years and twenty pounds ago. There were girls involved that night-it was fun. Where did my damn hair go?

I’ve travelled the world in this sweater and yes, if it could talk…. One of the things that I realized as I snapped some pictures of this old workhorse is that in twenty seven years, I’ve not had a major spill, rip, pull or tear cast upon Old Reliable. Nice. The cream colored one is MIA. Has been for years. Holler at me if you find it. I did find a picture of a Rolling Rock with me and the sweater attached to it. Heavy starched OCBD anchoring the Boatneck.

The neck of the sweater manifests the core of its differentiating personality. NO other sweater plays host to a popped collar like a Boatneck. The neck opening is splayed to accommodate a bit more exposure-kind of like the impact of a properly cut suit sleeve that shows just the right amount of white shirt cuff.

Another attribute of Old Reliable’s construct and personality is the remaining tautness of the waistband. It was no man’s land for a Trad shopping for sweaters several years ago when sweater cuffs and waistbands had no tension-no woven demarcation-the sleeves and body just kept running on till the end. Banana Republic was one of the biggest offenders as was I’m certain, most of the disco clothing shops on upper Wisconsin here in DC as well as the Malls.

The waistband on this baby remains tight as a girdle-not that I yet need one.

It’s fairly thick but baby soft after years of wear and works great at the beach without a popped collar under it. A starched OCBD looks regal under it as well.

Twenty years ago in my buddy's frame shop. Collar respectfully turned down for this sublime visit to the archival framing vault.

The utility of this cover is akin to the utility of a pair of Weejuns. Oceanside on a Saturday accompanied by a pair of shorts-then Sunday brunch after the Handlin’.

Don’t bother asking where one might procure such an item. I have no idea. Haven’t seen anything close to the understated élan or campaignable functionality of such a jumper in…twenty seven years.

Onward. Boatneckiddly.

ADG

Liberty of London Wellies and Don Rickles

I figured it was time for some lighter fare and randomosity...but not too light. A bit of random sorbet after all the back and forth regarding GTH pants might be a nice alternative here in my little blog world...no?

Not sure what the Brits think of the new Liberty of London-Target relationship but I can tell you what LFG thought of these Liberty of London boots when she saw the ad in a magazine...."cool daddy".

So I trucked over to Target and snapped up a pair for her...good thing I went when I did because these babies-not surprisingly-are blowing out the door. My baby is working hard in school. She's a sweet and compliant little gal-for now. Her days are long...kinda breaks my heart a little bit that she doesn't go strait home after school like I did.

So twenty four bucks for Liberty of London flowerdy boots as a reward seems reasonable. She is getting older, more discerning and mature by the moment so it's slightly more difficult to elicit that impromptu glee from her. I'm positive though, that when she sees her "surprise boots" she'll be giggly and gleeful and that's worth twenty nine hundred dollars to me.

Now let's talk about Don Rickles for a moment. I love him and some of his best insult comic work can be seen on YouTube clips of the Johnny Carson Show as well as the Dean Martin Roasts. You remember Johnny Carson right? He was the tonight show host who with elegant reserve, restraint and aloofness, endeared himself to America. Unlike Jay Leno who just couldn't give it up.

But the reason that I bring Rickles to my randomelange is to show proof positive that you are never too young to start wearing a pocket square. If there's a breast pocket-put something in it. Here's Rickels at about age four.

And finally...consistent with my randomanalia...a word or two about the bracelets that I wear. Several folks have commented on them and asked questions about their origin-meaning-intent etc. Bottom line is this-LFG has been adorning herself and me with bracelets since I can remember. Cotton friendship bracelets are supposed to be worn till they fall off. I've been known to retie the ones from LFG simply because I don't want the memory of her giving it to me to be over. Shut up. The horsehair one is the only LFG exception. Rykken at the Flusser shop went to several South American countries with his family a few years ago and bought back some horsehair bracelets and I conned one out of him. The leather one is just a piece of leather lacing. LFG wears an identical one. The wooden beads...can't remember where she got that one for me.

Onwardish. ADG

Alexander McQueen R.I.P.

I wasn’t exactly sure who Alexander McQueen was. I learned about his genius when I learned about his death. I don’t really have much to say other than I can’t fathom the level of pain one must be in to find the motivation to end one’s life. I also ponder why so many creative geniuses and brilliant contributors to the world end up gone too soon while the streets remain filled with knuckleheads.

McQueen went to Central St. Martins which I think, is sort of the “Parsons” of England. Witnessing a list of those who studied there would support the assumption. It has spawned scores of brilliant artists through the years. While those who follow women’s fashion have already assembled scores of tributes to McQueen, my motivation for also recognizing him is manifest in an email from a friend of mine in England who went to school with him at Central St. Martins.  Here it is…..

“His shows were nothing short of performance art. You can see a lot on YouTube -Shalom Harlow and the paint spray and the 2007Kate moss hologram thing. He did a few shows in glass boxes, one with the models walking round in a snow storm and another with the models amongst lots of butterflies. He famously used Aimee Mullins-a model with no legs below the knees and had her walking in the most beautiful carved boots…

 http://www.independent.co.uk/multimedia/archive/00255/IN12183523DC1fin_v5_255535s.jpg 

He got a lot of stick for that but his reasons for doing so were to challenge the fashion industry, he once complained "it (fashion) is about the beautiful people all of the time" . He used to be very self-conscious about his own unprepossessing looks; he was not very handsome, overweight and bad posture. I remember seeing him at college (our print technician used to do his prints and we used to help) he always wore jeans, a jumper and sneakers he was very soft spoken and didn't want to draw attention to himself. He was one of those people who notice everything. He hadn't had much formal education, his huge knowledge of art and history was self-taught and he was passionate about those things.

His shows were about his ideas and concepts. It's very easy to say so many of his clothes are unwearable but the show clothes rarely made it out of the studio in their runway incarnation.  He was brilliant at translating those concepts into wearable clothes that went into the shops. His cutting techniques are extraordinary as were his sensitivity to the fabric; the way he used print, the way he used leather.  He was in another league”.

R.I.P. Lee McQueen

Redux: Summer Vacation

My Blogging Days Are Over…..

TUESDAY AFTERNOON UPDATE....I'M NOT GOING ON VACATION-I JUST DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO POST RIGHT NOW-TOO BUSY! THUS THE OLDIE BUT GOODIE.....

At least until LFG and I return from South Carolina. We are beginning round one of at least four weeks of vayacay that we’ll take together before school resumes in late August. Longwing nailed me with the “ADG or ADD” assumption a while back. I’m not eclectic-I’m random as hell. To that end, I’m posting a dose of randomness to hold my few but devoted followers till I return.

I love the S.C. state flag. The brand however, is now a bit overexposed...I think.

French Bulldogs are cute. Make no mistake about it. However, they rival any fratty house antics when it comes to being gassy. Unbelievable the methane that these little snorters can produce. Come to think of it, LFG can muster a zinger from time to time. She gets THAT from her mom. By the way, LFG does wear Crocs. We're rednecks....no secret there.

My next suit from Flusser this fall is inspired by this windowpane. Don't try to talk me out of it.

Digital photo booth with LFG years ago. This is what we got for a dollar. I love bald babies. Can't find the cricket sweater vest that I had on in this pic. Came from Lillywhites in London. It will turn up sometime. When you have 10k square feet of house-these things can slip away for years.

Flusser remains the master. Thom Browne can't carry this guy's water. Flusser is Buddhist by the way.

I've ardently posited on more than one occasion that if you are going to wear Belgians-you've gotta "man-up"...Mizrahi has tainted the concept for me. So, I'll be putting my half dozen pairs in the back of the closet for six months.Oy.

My sister has two sons. One is a highly trained Marine Sniper. He kills people for a living. The notion kills me.

Even though he kills people for a living and has done two tours of that role in Iraq; he saves a life from time to time. Here’s an editorial excerpt from the Orange County Register….about a year ago.

“Thank You, Marine
It started out like any other pre-Christmas shopping trip, for Amber __________, when, accompanied by her children, she headed for the Big Lots store in San Clemente. Before the outing ended, one of her children had a close encounter with the grim reaper.

While checking out the store's wares, Amber turned away from the shopping cart, for a moment. When she turned around again, she was horrified to see 3 year old Patrick tumbling out of the cart. He landed with a thud, slamming the back of his head into the floor. As bad as that sounds, it gets worse, because, after a crying Patrick complained that his heard hurt, he went limp and turned pale.

Horrified, Amber began screaming and crying "Oh God, my baby." Luckily for Amber help was on its way. ____________heard the Amber’s wailing from across the store and recognized the sound, as any seasoned Marine would: "I’ve been in combat and I’ve heard screams like that. Her squeal was very distinct. You just run toward it and try to help."

Help is an understatement, given _______ heroics. He checked Patrick’s pulse and breathing and found neither. Unwilling to tolerate that, _________ administered CPR and, after four life-saving breaths, Patrick regained consciousness. ______ stayed with Amber and Patrick, until the paramedics relieved him, then, with his mission accomplished, he got on with his business.

We thank ________ for his service to his nation, and his ability to stay cool, calm and collected in a crisis. Thank you, Marine.”

He's a stunning physical specimen and LFG loves him. My sister named him after me. His older brother is a gay shoe designer in Gotham. Works for Manolo Blankcheck. I love both of them equally. Amazes me that they emerged from the same womb.

The end of an era in Old Town Alexandria. Not surprising. After over 30 years, the French couple who owned it retired home to Paris. The new owners didn't have the stuff to make it go. I love French comfort food in the winter. I got a quarter stuck up my nose one night in here. Give me a break-I was only 29 years old and it was a bet. I won the bet but had to use needle nose pliers at home to extract the quarter. Shut up.

Patch Madras............again.

What's in your junk drawer?

Don't even think about breaking-in to my manse while we are away. LFG and I have a new crop of hundred year old lead soldiers from Germany protecting the place. We also picked up in the deal, a hydrocephalic guy with a Fez.

Jay Kos cords with two inch cuffs. I like big cuffs. I'm compensating-shut up.

Yes, I had a porn star moustache in 1979. I'm not proud of it but I'm not going to deny it either.

Do your kids have their summer job options sorted out yet?Everyone has a favorite summer. This was mine. Life Guard at the Country Club. All those bored forty and older ladies-slathered in baby oil and ennui. I didn't understand back then-the source of their attentiveness. Nowadays, they call those ladies "Cougars".

Ok...that'll have to hold you till we return.

Onward.

ADG