No Ties

If you’ve been following the news this week, you have probably seen the networks all talking about this one particular member of Congress.

 

No, not the one who is being investigated for corruption. Or the one who is holding up military appointments.

 

Not even the one who was canoodling quite publicly while watching Beetlejuice at the theatre.

 

No, the big news this week was this one Senator who apparently wants to be able to come to work in his bathrobe.

 

Well, maybe not his bathrobe but what he does want to wear ain’t much better. A hoodie sweatshirt, shorts and running shoes.

 

So all the other members of Congress are dressed formally in suits and ties and dresses and then there is this one guy who strolls in there looking like Walter White getting ready to cook up a fresh batch of meth on an episode of Breaking Bad.

 

So, in classic partisan style, the Senate majority leader announced that instead of going up to the guy and just saying “Bro, you’re dressed like you coach girls volleyball at East Scranton Jr. College”, he would just change the rules and effective immediately Senators could wear whatever they wanted to the chamber.

 

Of course, some people hailed this as a victory for freedom of expression.

 

Others thought it was the end of our democracy as we know it.

 

Me? Well, I would be a hypocrite to rail against this Walter White guy for wanting to be comfortable and not to wear a suit and tie.

 

Neither do I.

 

I used to. Wear a suit and tie, not rail. Yeah, there was a time years ago when I would get up every morning, go through my closet and pick out a suit. And then I would try to find a matching tie.

 

That was the hardest part because I owned approximately 27,489 ties.

 

Approximately.

 

That was until one day I was standing in a parking lot talking to one of my clients. It was black asphalt and at least 100-degrees. He was wearing a short sleeve shirt and shorts. I was in a black suit with a tie wound tightly around me neck. Like a noose.

 

It was summer. I was sweating profusely. He was not.

 

I was miserable. He was not.

 

And that’s when I came to my senses and decided that none of my clients cared if I wore a tie.

 

So I stopped wearing ties. And suits.

 

I still sweated when I was standing in the parking lot during the height of summer, but not as much.

 

Maybe that is what happened to this Senator. He was talking to somebody one day. He was in a suit. They were in shorts and a tank top.

 

And he thought, ‘I want to be comfortable like that guy and not care about what people think about me. I’ll just wear whatever I want’

 

And he does. Sweatshirts. Sweatpants. Shorts.

 

The problem is that he is in a room with 100+ other people who are all dressed like they are going to a state funeral. And he is dressed like he’s anxious to get to the local YMCA and play a game of pickup basketball.

 

So instead of him changing, the Majority Leader decided it would be easier to just change the rules and let for Senators wear anything they wanted to work.

 

One Senator threatened to wear a bikini. I’ve seen a picture of this particular Congresswoman and I’m not judging her but I would rather see Walter White in his track suit.

 

I don’t know about you, but if I were in the Senate, I would take this opportunity to have a little fun. I mean, the Leader declared that you could ‘wear what you want’ so, I would wear what I want.

 

And it would not be a suit. Or a tie.

 

I would show up Monday in a Big Bird costume. I’m sure it would be difficult sitting behind my desk in the Senate chambers so I would just stand up on the platform, next to the Majority Leader.

 

C-Span would have the highest ratings in their history on that day.

 

Tuesday would be fun. At least for me as I showed up to the Senate dress like Shirley Temple. Every time I was called upon to vote, I would break into a verse of ‘The Good Ship Lollipop.’

 

On Wednesday, I would tone things down a little. No reason to embarrass myself completely, right?

 

I would dress exactly like the Senator who sits next to me in the Chamber. I would repeat everything they said.

 

If I’m lucky, it would be a women.

 

On Thursday, it will be time to celebrate Mardi Gras. I would dress up like a Drag Queen and throw beads to all the Senators as I entered the Chamber.

 

Especially if they were topless.

 

And with this new rule, they can be.

 

And Friday? Oh, Friday would be my pièce de résistance. I would bust through the back door wearing a red, white and blue thong singing ‘God Bless America.’

 

It’s patriotic and I’m guaranteed to be on the news. My constituents will love that!

 

I am pretty sure by the following week, that rule about dressing anyway you want would be tossed out the window.

 

Unfortunately, that Senator in the sweatshirt and shorts would have to dress like, well, like a Senator.

 

But me? Well, I’m not a Senator so if you see me in a suit and tie, it means one of two things.

 

You are someone who I really like or who I am related to and

you are either: a) getting married or b) you’re dead.

 

If you’re getting married, you’ll probably be wearing a suit and tie.

And if you’re dead, the people at the funeral home will have probably dressed you, against your will, also in a suit and tie.

 

We can’t send you to meet Jesus wearing a Pittsburg Steelers sweatshirt and sweatpants.

 

No, if you want you do that, you’ll need to get elected to the Senate.