Nubile

Nubile, once simply meant of marriageable age (street legal) now has such ugly connotations.  At the cost of outing myself as a MCP, thinking back to beaches crowded with bored, bikini clad golf widows and pools filled with young Canadian school marms soothes the soul.  Memories of beach front bars with sundressed patrons are helping to ease my transition to real life.  I thank the gods that women dress to impress other women.

While unwilling to do the Google circle thing, I do want to give a WOW to the customer service department of J Crew.  I screwed up big time, placing my annual Jack Purcell order and having it sent to our old address.  By the time I realized my mistake, the package had shipped.  I was anticipating a hassle, but a couple of emails later  the Crew crew cancelled my original order, refunded the charges and reordered with the correct address.  My package was waiting for me when I arrived home. Crew has a new friend.

Wouldn't you hate waking up knowing that today you were going to thread shoe strings in tennis shoes all day?

While in lazing in southern Toronto (Captiva)I had an opportunity to read the birthday book Mrs. T gave me.  If you enjoyed John Kennedy Toole's "Confederacy of Dunces" you'll like Jerry E. Strahan's "Managing Ignatius".  Jerry is the real life, general manager of Lucky Dogs in NOLA, and has been for 20 plus years.  To paraphrash Joe Walsh, it's lucky he's sane after all he's been through.  Wienie vendors are unique breed, and Jerry has dealt with them all their misfortunes.   His tales of day to day life on the streets of New Orleans' French Quarter will make yoiu thank Fortuna that the wheel of life shines on you. This is a family book, the stories that Jerry left out probably keep him up nights, because the ones he tells are unlikely to make you want to chuck it all for a chance to push a cart in NOLA.  His is a pretty good read and worth the $3 or so. Check Ebay or Alibris

Toad

Hope

The holiday niceness has finally begun to take its toll. I feel a need to let loose my inner male, or at least give it a winter airing before bottling it up until spring.

Rephrasing Yonks who asked over the weekend that if the Mayans are correct and come the winter solstice next year we're toast what would you want to accomplish this year?, I'd wonder how to spend that last day. Your answer may depend upon where you lie on the belief in the afterlife continuum.

Given assurances that in fact the Earth and all on it were going to perish later in the day, my final moments would likely be unpleasant for Lauren Hutton, who probably has her own plans, which likely don't include me.

As long as the probability of universal destruction is low, I took comfort from a recent J Crew catalog. Like Ralph, J. Crew is allergic to using adult women as models, perhaps because there are so few whom "toothpick" pants would flatter. Accidently perhaps, Ms. Hutton appeared in J Crew ads once upon a time. Looks like her granddaughter, the one with the American teeth, has replaced her.

Zank heaven, for very tall, 'tween girls who like to play dress up. Now that I have that out of my system...

Toad

Remember these?

The sterling ID bracelet.

Once upon a time, say late 60's, very early 70's these were the bees knees. Practically every well dressed young buck sported their own monogrammed, or cursive scripted named ID bracelet. As often as not they ended up on the wrist of the young blade's current heart throb. I suspect that in many women's jewelry box there may be more than one. It was always something of a surprise to me how many guys bought these in multiples.

Way back then, they were a throw back to the military unit bracelets, which many of our dad's and other vets still wore.

I hadn't thought about these since forever, and was reminded while looking at the J Crew catalog. The one pictured above retails for $150 or so. They didn't used to cost so much.

Toad