There’s an article in the latest SU alumni rag about the new, permanent president’s residence, a former trustee’s house atop Shades Mountain with the requisite, glorious view of the Sacred Bubble. Did they have to paint the dump Baptist white during the renovation?
Brings to mind the old sayin’, “There’s a place in hell for people who paint brick!” :)
Since a kilt hasn’t any pockets, a gentleman so attired must don a sporran. OK . . . a sporran is that purse thingy that hangs on the outer apron (front) of the kilt.
In as much as the sporran (as worn with a kilt) is NOT a feature of a lady’s Scottish attire, the sporran is, therefore, manly (as is the kilt: the aprons lap over the other way around than a lady’s skirt would, thank-you-very-much). No need to throw around Deuteronomy, abomination, and gender-specific attire, Pilgrim.
Sporrans are often constructed from stock pieces that can be combined in different ways. I just learned that it is possible to “build your own sporran” and place an order for the resultant opus. I don’t think this is a good idea. I know people who literally would come up with the following creations. (Well, probably not the pink one–why is that even an option?)
For the honour of playing with Henderson’s Build-A-Sporran web site, clique HERE.
About a year ago, I grew a full beard with very little fuss and bother from those near, dear, and undear to me. For more than a couple of decades, I’ve sported just about every style of facial hair imaginable (except a solo soul patch–that’s just tacky–or anything resembling ZZ Top), so whatever I do is not very surprising to those near, dear, and undear.
Yet, one does get some pesky initial (and sometimes continuing) comments. People’s reaction to the emergent hirsute countenance is always interesting, if utterly predictable. 50% will say nothing, beyond a sort of tacit acknowledgment, sensing that their reaction says more about them than growing a beard means about me. The other 50% give me their “hernia comment”–they simply MUST say something or bust a gut. Such comments, which I always mentally note with polite cheer, usually fall into one of about ten categories and get thrown into one of as many mental trash cans, joining their like type. Which is to say, with the upmost charm and tact: you’re not very original, people, and I don’t really care (even if you’re trying to flatter me–but, oh shucks, go ‘head an’ flatt’r).
Particularly annoying are the following kinds of comments, which just make any bearded person’s day. (My typical responses are in italics.)
The Red/Variegated Beard Anecdote
(Always from a man with black hair) “Hey, I grew a beard once, [whispered almost conspiratorially] it was RED.” Shocking.
(From a woman) “My husband grew a beautiful beard once. I really loved seeing all the different colors in it, until I made him shave it off!” How sweet.
The Gas Mask/”Beards are Unacceptable” Regulation
(Always from someone such as a Mormon temple worker who is also a volunteer firefighter) “It’s silly that Brigham Young had a beard, and I can’t have one; but, on top of that, a gas mask won’t seal if you have a beard.” I’ll see what I can do about it.
“You went to a little Baptist school, didn’t you? I thought they didn’t allow beards?” You’re thinking of a place like Bob Jones University. They’re fundie–I didn’t go there.
The Dewey Lecture
“Dewey would have beat [sic] Truman had he shaved off that mustache.” It was good enough to get him elected governor of New York; besides, Truman might have won by a larger margin had he not worn a straw hat and walked like Hercule Poirot.
(Follow-up to the previous) “And I can’t think of any CEO with a beard or mustache.” Yes, those clean-shaven types are crooks, aren’t they? Look at how well they’ve lead the economy.
*********************
I wonder what people would say if I went for ZZ Top length? And I’m such a nice person!
Auburn coaches are recruiting this week.
Ridin’ in style. Boss Hogg style.
I’m not sure this is going to have the intended effect. (Photo pinched from courtesy of finebaum.com.)
Just think, Her Majesty The Queen may well be listening to something like this on her gift iPod from Barack and Michelle:
‘Cause when you think of American theatre, you think of Reba!
I’m glad to know that I’m a “dipstick” by Samford association.
In case anyone knows not of what I’m referring, click HERE.
If all days are special, then today must be extra special. Must I ’splain?
Feb. 6 is Rick Astley’s birthday.
However far you trudge the road of woe and pity, there’s always a route back to SEE ROCK CITY.
–CAP’N WHOOK
If Jeff Foxworthy used a shaving brush made from roadkill possum hair to lather Granny’s lye soap, then shaved with Grandpa’s rusty, carbon-steel straight razor, would he be (and get) a red neck?
Don’t we all just love the pomp and pageantry that is college football? Something like this always happens . . .
[Official] “Gentlemen, we’re using this special commemorative coin for the toss. The woodchuck is ‘heads’ and Buzz Aldrin’s head is ‘tails.’ Call it in the air.”
[Team Captain] “Heads, I mean tails . . . er . . . Buzz!”
And that’s after a “creative” version of the National Anthem!
