By John Y. Brown III, on Wed May 9, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Just in case anybody out there has pull within the clothing industry, I would like to put in a request for a tuxedo that doesn’t take an engineering degree to put on.
I don’t understand how clip-ons got such a bad name. What’s not to like?
And those cufflinks and studs? I’m sure whoever came up with the idea was doing the best they could within the time period they lived in.
But we have since invented buttons, zippers and Velcro. Even button fly jeans. Cufflinks and studs should have faded about the same time knickers went out of style.
I would support a new line of male clothing that is all about ease of use and functionality. Men today should be able to dress for “black tie” without needing two or more people involved.
I might even go for a reversible tuxedo. As long as the reversed side isn’t powder blue.
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue May 8, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Sometimes there’s no substitute for the hackneyed phrase, “Only in America”
Tough economic times have led to long discussions with friends and colleagues about how best we to cope as they navigate a painfully tight job market.
My favorite resolution came from a fella I didn’t know well but was related to a dear friend. This person had gone through some tough times personally and vocationally recently and deserved a break.
Although I couldn’t help him, he helped me by giving me inspiration and teaching me a thing or two about persistence, self-confidence and, most of all, good old American pluck!
After losing his job and enduring a messy divorce he tried and failed starting his own business. After that he went through seemingly endless rounds of interviews in multiple industries and repeatedly came up empty handed. But then he had a brilliant idea.
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon May 7, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Favorite horse racing story.
When my son was in kindergarten his school had a tradition of a stick horse derby race. Parents take it seriously.
There were rumors of moms and dads advising their children on tricks and techniques for winning…and I didn’t want our son to be at a disadvantage.
So I took him out to our backyard to show him some stick horse racing tricks of my own–which I was making up as I go.
The key, I said, was staying focused on running hard no matter what. I demonstrated. Tucking the stick part of the stick horse between my legs and running back and forth as fast as I could. Until I stepped into a hole in the yard and tripped.
At that point I was jarred from my “hyper-competitive parent” mode and looked up and around me. I realized there was at least on neighbor watching me racing on a stick horse in my back yard. And injuring myself.
She was courteous enough to pretend she was looking in another direction in that way that says, “I’m so embarrassed for you that I’m going to do you the favor of pretending I didn’t see that. But I did. And, yes, you looked that ridiculous.”
I went inside and put ice on my ankle.
And didn’t go outside to the backyard again for several weeks. Until I had some dignified and serious reason to be there.
Still, the stick horse race went well. My son finished “in the money” so to speak. I was proud. And I like to think I may have helped contribute to his successful run.
It was a proud moment that made me think to myself in that loving way, “Like father, like son.” Sort of.
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri May 4, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
I was remembering today when Al Gore explained that he and Tipper were whom the author of the novel and later hit movie Love Story was based on.
The movie starred a young, dashing and quite handsome Ryan O’Neal and the lovely and endearing Ali McGraw. Gore claimed he was played by Ryan O’Neal.
Not Ali McGraw.
The author later disputed that claim… but that’s beside the point. It’s fun to think that a celluloid couple remind you of you and your spouse.
Anyway, it made me wonder if there was a movie that had characters that reminded my wife and me of each other. Both individually and even the way they related to one another.
I wanted to suggest Love Story but knew it wouldn’t pass muster.
We agreed, however, that the couple in Albert Brooks Lost in America was a pretty close parallel to us.
Albert Brooks is no Ryan O’Neal in the looks department but seems to think more like I do. An advertising exec who wants to drop out of society and repeat a motor home version of Easy Rider. And fails miserably at it.
As for the female lead, Ali McGraw is lovely but Julie Haggerty is lovely, too, and is probably a lot sweeter. And even better, Julie Haggerty’s character doesn’t die at the end of the movie.
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu May 3, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
What doth it profit a man to reduceth his cholesterol if he CRS?
That’s my dilemma.
I’m in a tiny minority who respond well to statins (reducing my cholesterol levels) but experience significant memory loss on the flip side.
And it’s true with any statin. I’ve tried about 4 different ones.
My doctor, thinking the memory problems were minor, even suggested it may be worth the payoff.
That reducing cholesterol by 80 points is worth struggling to remember an old phone number or friend’s name you hadn’t seen in years was worth the trade off.
So I tried again.
Within 3 days I was leading a conference call with a client and had my boss and several other colleagues on. Three times within 15 minutes I could not remember my boss’ name.
I told my doc, whose name I was fortunate enough to remember, and he said best to look for alternatives to statins….I agree.
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue May 1, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Great moments in family conversations.
My wife, my son (a high school senior) and I went out for dinner last night.
As is often is the case, my son and wife were having a conversation and I felt like a 6th man on the bench who may get playing time if either began to tire.
My son was excitedly—yet matter-of-factly—explaining that he was learning in school about anthropology and that polygamy was superior to monogamy as a societal partnering arrangement.
My wife, Rebecca, excitedly—yet matter-of-factly (and a little defensively)—was willing to argue for monogamy. I sat entranced though pretending to be more interested in picking through my salad.
When my son couldn’t think of the word for women having multiple husbands, I chimed in from the bench, “polyandry.”
Although neither side was tiring, I was about to get some playing time. “So, John, what do you think?” my beloved wife, Rebecca, queried with that tone that simultaneously reminded me both of the first time I heard the term “united front” and the first time I slept on the couch.
I glanced at my son who I’ve played enough basketball with to develop head signals. Although we never had a head signal for an alley-oop dunk (since neither of us can dunk), the look he gave me would have been it.
He was saying to me, “C’mon dad, I got your back. Let’s have some fun with mom.” It was a touching father-son moment but it was time for me to choose a side.
Of course, I believe in monogamy. Always have and always will. But that wasn’t the decision I was faced with.
The decision was, At what point do you make peace with the fact—even if it’s just for fun—that you will never, ever make an alley-oop dunk in life?
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Apr 30, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Facing up to major shortcomings in what you know. And don’t know.
I like to think of myself as what I’ll call a “Mark Twain American.” An American who understands our culture in common sense terms and isn’t a person who is especially impressed with pomp and circumstance –and someone who easily amused by those who are slaves to creating impossible public images for themselves and the things they value.
Sure part of that is a surly juvenilism….but part is surely authentic, too.
An example. I know a man about my age (who shall remain nameless) who was at Keeneland the other day and was served lunch. This friend of man (err..this man…who isn’t me), was searching for his eating utensils and unraveled his table napkin and out tumbled the silverware. As people nearby stared–part perturbed; part irritated with me.
I tried quickly to organize–properly set– the forks, knife and spoon in hopes of going unnoticed. I may have gotten it right. But even a “Mark Twain American” ought to know where silverware goes on a set table. I knew they eventually went in my hands and then the food. But will research tonight where they begin our next dinner.
Just in case anybody out there has pull within the clothing industry, I would like to put in a request for a tuxedo that doesn’t take an engineering degree to put on.
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