Yesterday when I was getting off the elevator on my floor (yes, I know, I should take the stairs) the elevator landed, and the doors slid open to reveal one of the department heads who is an older man, probably in his sixties. He was standing, prepared to board the elevator, wearing grey slacks, a lavender dress shirt, lavender and blue patterned bowtie (the real kind) and tortoise framed glasses, holding in his hand a gigantic cigar. This vision clearly made my day.
There is, of course, no smoking inside our building, but he was going downstairs to the sidewalk. I told one of my bosses about the delightful vision I had just seen, and he said "oh yeah, if you walk to lunch, you'll probably see him just strolling down the sidewalk smoking his cigar, looking like he owns the city." I have always thought this department head was just swell, mainly because of the bowties and the glasses (which he wears regularly), but now I like him even more. Someone who's good at fiction should write a short story or something about this image because I just love it. Too bad Scott Fitzgerald isn't around.
(For a peek into the life of a famous Chattanooga bowtie-wearer and his ice cream empire, see this month's magazine!)
Today is May Day, being the first day of May, which of course brings to mind May Day at GPS, one of my favorite traditions. This event honoring seniors, pretty dresses, and old school activities such as dancing around the May pole (see below photo, not of GPS but from some website called victoriantraditions.com) is fun for everyone, pretty much, except for the grounds crew who spend like a month worrying about whether it will rain on May Day and then if it does, coming up with innovative ways to try and dry out the grass. It is also not fun for male teachers at GPS, who for the most part think it is ridiculous. I, of course, think it is fantastic and feel lucky to have gone to a school with long-lasting and fun traditions. Having hung out with Babs in her capacity as YoungLife leader a little bit, I am happy to say that I've met this year's May Queen and she strikes me as a genuine delight.
In other news, my parents reported to me last night that in watching the local news the night before, they learned a valuable tip regarding transport in Tunnel Hill, Georgia (a nearby town.) Don't drive your horse drunk. Two men were apparently arrested after officers responded to neighbors complaints that they were riding recklessly. After being released from jail on bond, the men supposedly sold the horses immediately because (according to my parents, this is a quote from one of the men) the only reason they had bought the horses in the first place was to ride them when they were too drunk to drive. My stepdad says that the son of one of the men said on the news that he didn't understand why they'd been arrested, because they'd ridden the horses before when they were "a whole lot drunker than they was last night." Ahh, song of the south.
And people say television news is always bad news.