Yet we all do it.

And in some cases it is applicable.

If you will allow me a brutish example, I think farting is an absolutely amazing experience, but should never be presented as a community blessing. In other words, it is perfectly all right if people object to farting in public, as long as they don’t insist that farts were meant to stay inside.

Likewise, I am certain there is a place for the bow tie. Matter of fact, we have given it a location of honor for formal events, weddings, and occasions where kings or queens may frequent.

But generally speaking, when in public–just as with the fart–it’s a good idea not to don one of these pieces of neckwear. There is a stigma associated on someone who wears one on a Tuesday afternoon in Schenectady.

I am not going to go into what some of the implications might be, or how this individual might be viewed by the general public, but let us say that it isn’t what you might call a classic turn-on.

For a very brief week or two, I thought bow-ties might be an interesting choice for me, as a fashion statement. But every time I looked in the mirror, the short little bloom around my neck made my fat face appear about three times bigger. I looked like a butcher asking if you wanted to pick up a good deal on cold cuts.

Of course, no one told me. The human race is notorious for informing us how nice we look and then whispering and giggling behind our backs.

Finally, a dear friend of mine, in a moment of clarity and sanity, stepped up and said, “Your bow tie makes you look like you’re wearing a tourniquet that’s swollen your face.”

She was right.

So to all of those who love the bow tie, hat’s off to you.  But for the record, maybe you should consider hats.

Published by Jonathan Cring