T is for Ties

For a two-year period of my life, I was in a completely different world. A world of denominations. A world of knocking on doors. A world of sweaty suits, black name tags, broken bicycles, slammed doors, angry rednecks, chewing tobacco, humidity, and anything else associated with Richmond Virginia. It was at this point in my life when I discovered the beauty of what made me different from everyone else donning a white shirt; Ties.

Thanks to pawn shops and Jones-New York, my tie collection has developed into one of the most beautiful collections known to man. My Dad had one heck of a tie collection, and I tried as hard as I could to emulate the neckwear that he had.

I'm a silk man. Not a polyester creature. In Richmond there was a debating argument as to which was more attractive. I for one decided to leave the 70's where they were and move forward to a much more professional look. Hence my dominance of silkness.

My ties are unique. Each and every one of them has their own personal story. For instance:

* One of them is an official Ohio State Alumni tie that another elder found in a nickel and dime shop for 15 cents.

* One of them was my Dad's Christmas tie featuring the Abominable Snowman from the claymation Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. (I have the matching socks)

* One of them I traded for a box of pizza from a fellow Elder.

* One of them I accidentally urinated on while I was frantically relieving my bladder.

* One of them I have used as a napkin.

* One of them has a scribbled signature in silver ink from a friend.

* One of them was my tie when a girl told me that she would kiss me violently just because of the tie that I was wearing. (Which did not happen)

* One of them I found on the side of the road in Virginia Beach.

* One of them I have given a name to which I shall not reveal to anyone.

* One of them I wear twice a year. (Along with my purple suit)

Every one of them has a story to be told. Every one of them means something more to me than the interwoven silk fibers that make up the actual organized fabric laced in a double-windsor around my neck. They are my most prized collection along with my box of Upper Deck basketball cards. If a fire were to happen in my apartment, they would be the second thing that I would madly grab and save from the flames. They are my sacred neckwear which distinguished me from everyone else for two years in Virginia, and will continue to do that as long as I keep tying them on.