Black Tie

That's what it was for the missus and yours truly on Saturday night. We were guests of some friends whose college freshman daughter was debuting at our city's biggest deb shindig of the year--they bought a table so we sat there with them to witness their young Kappa make her triumphant curtsy before the gathered local gentry. Good cause and all to benefit abused kids so it wasn't just complete capitalist dogs running amok. There were about fifty or so young women dressed in their beautiful white gowns and we got to watch each and every one do the cherished and practiced technique of gently swooning downward in a type of swan like bowing maneuver--some are better swans than others--a few actually resembled a canvasback I shot a few years back. A little tedious to sit through and it's in a way a lot like watching the Grand Champion competition in the steer division of the livestock show--the girls are generally prettier but you begin noticing the highlights and flaws of each and speculating on who has the best marbling. Anyway, I do that kind of thing at something like this to pass the time.

We go to several of these deals each year which makes owning a tuxedo a good idea. I keep mine in sort of a kit format where all of the accoutrement's like cuff links, ties, braces, etc. are all in one place and it's really pretty easy to throw it on and not worry about much other than not stepping on some one's dress. I did note for the record, however, that it was about an hour or so after checking in and fully immersed into the pre-game cocktail session/silent auction perusal that I made my first men's room visit and discovered that my fly had been down the entire time with the added bonus of my shirt tail sort of peeking out. Splendid news. That said, you often times get drink tickets at these things (we got two each) upon check in and I was positively ecstatic when two of the other couples at our table were passing on cocktails for the evening and gave me theirs. They went to very good use--nice selection of call liquor and cheerful bartenders, to boot.

Ran into several of the rich and powerful and sometimes obnoxious and shady of our fair city including one fairly infamous politician who folded once a couple decades back leaving tons of people high and dry only to resurrect his own fortunes later. The local rag ran a piece on him last year regarding a splashy donation he was making to Longhorn U. I wrote 'em a letter to ask what all those souls he left holding the bag think of his new found generosity. Didn't hear back. That night, I watched his smiling, confident daughter walk down the aisle and it appeared for all the world that she's never suffered for any of the indignities her old man has fostered on others or any shame for his odiousness. Used to, there was shame, but no more. Maybe that's a good thing--she can live life fully and think daddy is wonderful. For me though, while he was standing at the next urinal, I did think briefly about rotating the turret starboard for a nice parting shot.

All that said, the missus looked great, I pretty much behaved myself except for an excessive number of furtive glances at the prominent decoupage on display, and we made it home to find that the teenagers at our house had not stolen all of the hooch. Good times.