The disappearing necktie.

There are days when I wouldn’t go back to work in an office, in a downtown, for any amount of money. There are days when I’d pay any amount for just another day there. Tuesday was one of those days — a successful meeting in the morning, a lunch hour all to myself, a sparkling day on the riverfront. Lousy picture, seen here:


(Why do they even put cameras this crappy in cell phones? You’d be better off drawing a picture.)

I tried the new Asian Village on the waterfront, a combination fast-casual/sushi/white-tablecloth complex that’s new in town. Verdict: OK, but needs more foot traffic, and if you can’t get foot traffic on a perfect fall day, keep your fingers crossed. “It’s not organic,” Alan points out, and he’s not talking about the vegetables. It’s one thing when a Whatevertown springs up because the whatevers are drawn together individually, and another thing entirely when they’re plunked in by fiat. But it’s beautiful, the location can’t be beat, and with thousands of GM office staff right next door, my guess is they’ll be rolling in dough eventually.

(“Don’t be so sure,” says Alan. We’ll have to make a bet.)

While I was there, I looked around at contemporary American white-collar workers, wearing their lanyards of IDs and card keys and personal electronic devices. We’re becoming a nation of janitors. At my meeting, I not only had to be card-swiped into the building and personally escorted, but also the reverse. Employees had to swipe themselves out for smoke breaks. I had just been telling someone I sort of missed the days when all men wore neckties to the office, if for no other reason than to indicate status, and the more I watched these salarymen and women go through their day, it became clear why: Why wear all that crap and a tie? I tried to think of the last time I saw Alan in a tie (months). GM is a conservative company, and a few of the men tucking into Thai noodles wore neckties, but more didn’t. Khakis, polos, loafers — this is the new gray flannel suit.

I don’t mind it; I’m all for comfort within reason. But I recall watching the deterioration of dress at my old newspaper, which over 20 years went from neckties to collared shirts/no neckties to collared knit shirts to plain T-shirts to the day one of the Neighbors reporters came in wearing a T-shirt that said MUSTARD PLUG on the front, along with Teva sandals that showed off his grody toenails. I used to wear skirts and pantyhose to work; now I wear jeans to business meetings with bankers, and frequently the bankers are wearing jeans, too. If I have a blazer on, it’s like I’m dressed up. Yay me.

OK, just a bit of bloggage, because this is a busy week and I have less time for web-surfing and nose-picking:

This is too good not to be real: Mrs. Larry Craig’s Super Tuber recipe. HT: Weingarten.

When Alabama men of God die, they die alone. Thank God.

See you soon.

Posted at 12:22 am in Same ol' same ol' |

25 responses to “The disappearing necktie.”

  1. ashley said on October 10, 2007 at 1:31 am

    Mr Craig may be a bit tired. Haggard, in fact. There’s even a pic of the super tuber here.

    Oh, and the fundys think that Mr Alabama was in fact murdered. Who else would have put that condomed dildo up his pooper?

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  2. Peter said on October 10, 2007 at 9:45 am

    Imagine entering the hereafter in that outfit!

    And to think that my mom always told me to wear really clean underwear because you’ll never know when you get hit by a car and you don’t want to be seen in heaven with soiled underwear

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  3. LA mary said on October 10, 2007 at 10:09 am

    I shouldn’t read Weingarten when other people are in the hallway near my office. There was no way to explain why I was laughing.
    The big shots here wear ties, and a few of the managers who fancy themselves as dapper, but for the most part people dress like schlumps here at the hospital. I’m supposed to dress up because I’m meeting people from the outside world which translates into black pants with different other stuff. We have to wear lanyards with badges that open doors, but in a hospital I have no problem with that. You don’t want random visitors taking a stroll through the NICU or nuclear medicine.

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  4. alex said on October 10, 2007 at 10:48 am

    Good thing I read about it at home before I left for work. The autopsy report didn’t mention whether it was a weensie caucasian dildo or a big fat negroid one. Bet I know what the Reverend prefers. Damn those southerners for trying to spare him the indignity.

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  5. brian stouder said on October 10, 2007 at 11:29 am

    Why do they even put cameras this crappy in cell phones? You’d be better off drawing a picture.

    My question is, what is the fellow doing in the foreground? It looks like he has stolen a mannequin, and is simultaneously trying to conceal the thing and obscure his own face…

    or maybe he is playing an intense game on one of those small hand-held game systems.

    Inquiring minds want to know…

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  6. ashley said on October 10, 2007 at 12:39 pm

    Inquiring minds want to know:

    was the dildo causasoid, negroid, or some festive color?

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  7. LA mary said on October 10, 2007 at 1:01 pm

    Maybe the condom on the dildo was festive? I’m thinking zebra stripes.

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  8. brian stouder said on October 10, 2007 at 1:09 pm

    This has to be one of the most morbid threads in the annals of NN.c….

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  9. LA mary said on October 10, 2007 at 1:19 pm

    The super tuber isn’t morbid. It’s festive. Not in a zebra striped way, though.

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  10. Carmella said on October 10, 2007 at 1:24 pm

    The super tuber is disgusting in a turducken kind of way.

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  11. ashley said on October 10, 2007 at 1:26 pm

    Deep fried turducken. Them’s good eatin’.

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  12. LA mary said on October 10, 2007 at 1:37 pm

    The super tuber reminds me of the Kraft recipes they used to show during Kraft sponsored TV specials in the 70s and 60s. They always had marshmallows and miracle whip in them.

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  13. MichaelG said on October 10, 2007 at 1:49 pm

    Lileks (I know, I know) has all those horrible recipes in his gallery of regrettable food.

    They’re kind of fun to peruse. When I saw the super tuber earlier today I had a reaction I still can’t quit describe. Something between a snort and a gag, I guess. Somehow, it seems to fit my pal Larry.

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  14. LA mary said on October 10, 2007 at 1:55 pm

    I know Lileks is a fan of those nasty recipes. I’m trying to forget that.
    Does anyone remember a program on PBS called the Great American Dream Machine? they did a good Kraft recipe segment once.
    The super tuber snort/gag/laugh was what got my co-workers wondering what was going on in my office. There’s really only one person here I could explain it to without getting looked at very strangely, so I bluffed my way out of the question.

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  15. Kirk said on October 10, 2007 at 2:02 pm

    That’s what’s nice about working at a newspaper. You can cover your snort/gag/laugh by offering to share with whoever heard you.

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  16. LA mary said on October 10, 2007 at 3:20 pm

    If you peruse the rest of the Congressional cookbook, you’ll see Randy (Duke) Cunnningham’s recipe for elk.

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  17. Peter said on October 10, 2007 at 3:36 pm

    The Great American Dream Machine? Oh LA Mary, that brings back memories!

    I would love to see episodes of that show – something tells me that it hasn’t aged well, but who knows?

    I just remember the skit where Avery Schreiber was going over the government’s grading system for olives and opened up a large can that had one gargantuan olive in it.

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  18. LA mary said on October 10, 2007 at 4:42 pm

    Was it Avery Schreiber or Marshall Efron? Marshall Efron was the regular on that show, and he looked sort of like Avery Schreiber.

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  19. LA mary said on October 10, 2007 at 4:50 pm

    From Wikipedia:

    “Marshall once did a skit on the different size descriptions on cans of food. I believe this was prior to government regulation and standardizing of labels. Marshall sarcastically compared cans of olives with sizes like: Giant, Jumbo, Extra Jumbo, Super Jumbo, Colossal, and Super Colossal The Super Colossal can contained one olive that filled the can.”

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  20. Crabby said on October 10, 2007 at 5:52 pm

    Around here we call the Super Tuber the “Dick-tater”

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  21. Jeff said on October 10, 2007 at 6:50 pm

    The “personal effects” line in the autopsy report has to be the saddest sentence i’ve read in a long time. But seriously, if you have your hands tied behind your back, someone has to be helping out, or is there also a Houdini fetish i don’t know about, either?

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  22. alex said on October 10, 2007 at 8:12 pm

    No, Jeff, autoerotic asphyxia is a loner’s game. Would you willingly strangle someone for kicks? Didn’t think so.

    Supposedly the lightheadedness adds to the thrill. That and the thought of ignominy if you don’t survive it and you’ve got a black latex mask on your face and a dildo up your ass. And a congregation of Doctor James Dobsonites likely to have a proverbial coronary over it if not a real one.

    He went to his great reward about as titilaciously as one ever does. Imagine putting a condom on a dick that can’t even give you the clap. Now that’s some incredible planning.

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  23. joodyb said on October 10, 2007 at 9:27 pm

    super tuber! hahaha! the recipe text is hilarious.

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  24. MichaelG said on October 11, 2007 at 9:24 am

    It just occurred to me that somebody should open a SuperTuber concession outside that MPLS airport mens’ room.

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  25. brian stouder said on October 11, 2007 at 9:31 am

    Too much of a security distraction –

    “Is that a Super Tuber in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

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