suits me...
The first hint of the potential for a problem arrived in our mailbox earlier this year in the form of a, Hold The Date Notice. The official problem was spelled out about six weeks later when an envelope containing the actual wedding invitation was delivered by the USPS..
How could I know a major expenditure would be tucked in plain site within those gracious and eloquent words?
HUH? What's up with that?
It was almost noon and I was sitting on a stool at the end of the kitchen island when I opened the missive. Regina was preparing a Swiss Cheese sandwich on a whole wheat bun with lettuce, tomato, and Marzetti's Slaw Dressing. I told her who was getting married, the time, date, and, place.
Let me see the invitation, she said.
Is that really necessary? I countered.
What do you mean? Why can't I see it? she asked.
Okay, here. I handed it to her.
Oh, this is a really beautiful invitation, she assessed.
Yes, it is. Here, I'll take it back, I urged her. That was when she spotted the issue I didn't want her to see. The one that was going to cost me money.
Look, it says the wedding is formal, she read.
Does it really? I feigned ignorance to try to ward off the inevitable.
You are going to have to buy a suit, she declared.
Two months later, my brothers, Dave, Carl and Ken, and, Jody, Ken's wife, met Regina and me for lunch at George's (no relation) Neighborhood Bar and Grill on Binford Boulevard in Indianapolis.
We were seated at a round table for six discussing life and other matters interesting only to us. The following is roughly what transpired.
Seems like all the children of our nieces and nephews are either getting married or they are married and having a baby, Carl observed.
It doesn't seem possible that we are the grandparents sitting in the church pew watching the ceremony, or, the old aunt or uncle passing along a congratulatory card, Ken lamented.
When we were living the moment, we didn't know the moments would be over so soon, I said gloomily.
Cheer up, boys. You have to just take life as it comes and deal with it, our eldest brother pontificated. You know what I always say? Enjoy the ride. Just roll with the flow. Take it as it comes.
Dave, I don't think I've ever heard you say any of that, Carl doubted.
He's right, Jody agreed. Dave's philosophy is how we should all feel.
Hey, check out those two couples walking in, Carl pointed out. You don't see many guys in suits at noon around here.
Suits? They are wearing suits? Where? Let me see! That reminds me of something, I perked up. Have any of you guys bought a two piece suit lately?
You mean like matching pants and jacket? Dave asked. Like those guys are wearing? Shoot no, man, I haven't worn a suit in 30 years.
I've got suits hanging in the closet I seldom wear, Carl said.
I think I wore a suit to a wedding a few years ago, Ken speculated.
He wants to know if you have bought a suit recently because he bought one and he thought it was outrageously expensive, Regina clarified. I thought I was going to have to tie an anchor to his leg to keep him from walking out of the store.
What do you need a new suit for anyway? Dave inquired.
Your grandson's wedding, I answered The invitation said it was formal.
Why don't you wear that light blue polyester leisure suit you used to love? Dave quipped.
Kenny had the light blue one, Carl piled on. I think Steve had the beige one with the brown stitching.
You boys are very funny, but, you don't feel my pain, I complained.
I didn't have a blue leisure suit, Ken corrected Carl.
I thought you did, Carl grinned.
It was light green, Ken set the record straight.
Oh, okay. Steve, what about this new suit? Carl invited.
Well, everything just seems so expensive and clothes are right up there too, I said. I started out at Penney's, but, that didn't work out. Then, I moved on to Macy's and that wasn't for me either.
Where did you go and how much was it? Ken asked.
I wound up at Men's Wearhouse and I paid $400 plus alterations of almost a hundred bucks, I admitted.
WHAT?!! Dave shouted incredulous. You paid $500 for a suit?
All four of us try to be fiscally responsible in the footsteps of our dad, but, no one can pinch more out of a penny than big brother.
Well, what did you spend? I wondered. .
For what? he wanted to know.
A suit. It is formal and you are the grandfather, so, that means you will be in a suit, I reasoned.
Oh, that, he said flatly.
You are wearing a suit, aren't you? asked Ken.
I don't know boys, when you get to be my age you have certain privileges and....he drifted.
Wait a minute, commanded Carl. There will be all these family pictures with everyone looking formal and the patriarch of his three sons and their families is going to be in a sport coat? Is that what you are telling us?
Well, not exactly, he squirmed.
Man, you've got to get in that coffee can that's buried buried in your back yard and take out enough green and go buy a suit, directed Carl.
Yeah, brother, you don't want to look like you walked in off the street and you don't belong in the picture, added Ken.
Just then, the hummus and bread arrived along with other appetizers. A hush fell over the six of us as if we didn't want the server to hear us talking about family skeletons hidden in the attic as he placed the snacks on the table. He soon walked away and our chatter resumed.
Well? What about it? I picked up where we left off.
I'm not wearing a suit, Dave announced, but I...
You have to wear a suit, Carl interrupted. You don't own a sport coat good enough to pass as formal wear.
That's just it, I will be formal, Dave said. I'm wearing a tux.
Are you kidding me? Carl said disbelieving. You wouldn't get into a rented tux for your senior prom 65 years ago when they were 9-95 and you didn't have to return it for three days!
This is different, declared Dave.
Different must mean you aren't paying for it, Ken correctly guessed.
Well, that's true too, Dave admitted.
It doesn't matter who is paying, I'm glad you will be dressed right, I weighed in.
Carl, apparently tired of the direction the conversation had taken, reverted back to the original topic. Do you people realize I have great grand children? And, I'm the third youngest brother at the table!
Yeah, well, I don't think any form of young can be used to describe us anymore, Dave opined.
Look at the bright side, Ken chipped in. We don't have to raise any more kids.
I just wonder about those two guys over there, I said absent mindedly.
What about them? Carl asked.
Well, they must be applying for a job somewhere because they are both wearing those suits, I noted.
So what? Does that mean something? Ken wondered.
Not really, I hesitated. I was just thinking I would go over there and ask them if they have a friend who would buy my suit. Maybe I could get some of that money back.
If you do that, we are all going to get up and leave this table, Carl declared.
Alright, alright, I said resignedly. But, you know what? I could rent my suit out to someone who needs one, but, doesn't want to buy, or, even put it on that market thing on Facebook.
I'd say you are having a hard time getting over that 500 dollars you spent for that suit, Ken guessed.
Yeah, I am, How did you know? I asked him.
Lucky guess, Ken said flatly.
Coming up: another oddities, observations, & ?'s; a conversation with more POS; an Encore Performance; a look at legacies, and; meet a motorcycle outlaw turned minister.
And, finally. I watched about half of the presidential debate earlier this week and was once again let down because I was expecting a true debate.
The accusations, false claims, and, unneeded boasting by both parties was not to my liking. In fact, it is the very antithesis of what I don't like about our current political environment
Regardless, I have one question: Is it too late for Mitt Romney to enter this contest?
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