The quest for formal wear.
10:27 p.m.
After his last exam, Buddy Boy and I headed up to M00re�s Men�s Wear where he was measured for his monkey suit for the senior prom. He is not graduating this year, in fact, but has been chosen, along with a female member of his class, to be an emcee for this year�s do. Apparently this is quite an honour. The qualifications for this position are good looks and charisma, something my youngest has in abundance. He opted for a white morning coat and pants, a blue patterned vest and a silver tie. He was tempted by the patent leather shoes on display, but I discouraged him, saying that he�s going to be on his feet all night and he would be more comfortable in his own shoes which he knows fit. His girlfriend�s gown, he has been told, is black, so they will look like chess men from opposites sides of the board.
We also stopped briefly at the mall so he could pick up some CDs from HMV and I could get a new leather watchband for my Cardinal. The latter turned out to be a bit of an adventure as the two ladies behind the counter couldn�t get the old pins (I don�t think they were the original ones, but that the last time I got a watchband they were switched) out of the watch. One of them ended up pulling them out with needlenosed pliers and inserting slightly shorter ones. The truly amazing thing about all this is that I bought this particular watch around 20 years ago for approximately $25. The watchband today cost $22 (before taxes), and all the various watchbands over the years have added up to quite a bit more than I originally paid for this timepiece. However, it�s reliable, it is just the right size for my diminutive wrist, and it has nice big numbers and a second hand which are easy on my aging eyes. Why would I want anything else?
On the way home, just as we were making our left hand turn at the gravel pit, we saw a semi at an odd angle with a police car nearby and someone in an orange vest directing traffic. The cab of the semi was smashed, and I can only imagine what the poor sap he hit looked like. However, when we got there, there was no other vehicle that could have been involved, so the tow truck had probably already been and gone. It�s a very dangerous corner, descending rather sharply from the crest where the trucks turn into the gravel pit. If one doesn�t have sufficient braking time or space, disasters are easily imaginable. It was leading to this same intersection that I was warning the singer in my daughter�s band to slow down before he crested the rise, since it was raining and I feared he wouldn�t give himself enough time to stop. This is also the same spot from where I viewed the electric scene with the mountains and the lightning last week.
I took a nap this afternoon and dreamt that I was attacked by an asp. I�m sure you Jungians out there will have lots to say about that one.
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