Gauging from the number of hits on my site from the previous posts about the trauma of buying and wearing suspenders, the Curmudgeonly Professor realizes he has struck a vital nerve that has reached around the globe. I haven't been abroad to speak of except to Tijuana and the Trans-Canada Highway so I have no idea whether foreigners fight the battle of sagging and dragging pants, frayed cuffs, and constant issues of pulling them up a zillion times a day.
For you doubters out there, however, the Professor is pleased to report on the success of his suspenders mission. I have at least an extra hour a day to tend to my blog since I don't have to go around yanking my drawers up every five minutes. So you, out there in the blogosphere, are either the beneficiaries or the disgusted recipients of my sacrifice to go around looking like a geezer in suspenders. Talk about the Law of Unintended Consequences. I do not yet look like Larry King. Unfortunately, I probably look more like Dick Cheney, a fellow Wyomingite who can soon clean out his desk and retire to Jackson Hole and look at the Tetons, although VP Cheney has not yet been seen wearing suspenders. Nonetheless, the resemblance is definitely there.
I would say, definitely, that the Professor recommends that you long-suffering geezers and, for that matter, males of any age, get over your worries about not looking like George Clooney any longer and go buy yourself a pair of industrial-strength suspenders that will not pop off when you are introduced to any visiting Presidential candidate when they show up in Lightning Flats WY chasing your valued Super Delegate vote. Do not sell them your vote. Instead, ask them what their position is on suspenders. Do they think the government should set up a new Bureau of Suspenders to provide suspenders to needy geezers or do they think suspenders should be required by law to keep embarrassing sights from materializing in public when suspender crises occur unexpectedly, just like that. Well I never. Or do the Candidates feel that suspenders are the responsibility of the people, and never mind the public consequences of getting tired of watching unenlightened men go around yanking up their drawers all day and tightening their belts in the Costco checkout line so they can put their giant packs of toilet paper on the moving conveyor without having to say, "Oh, excuse me, I'm so sorry, and I hope you weren't offended." Face it men, geezers become sort of generic and they all look alike. That's why little kids in stores call every geezer grandpa because all they know is that they have no hair, a little hair, an atrocious and ungodly combover, and what hair they have is either gray or badly colored by Grecian Formula, and their Rogaine has not kicked in yet except for a straggler hair growing on their nose.
Men, we are no longer nineteen playing quarterback for the Powell Panthers in the regional playoffs when all cheerleaders thought we were a gift from heaven directly to them and we spent an hour a day combing our hair just so to have the right effect. No, we are geezers, our pants sag, our hair is mostly gone, we take extra fiber just for the fun of it, we watch Matlock reruns, and we may even creak here and there. The addition of suspenders to our wardrobe is perhaps the most critical move we can make today to add to the environmental beauty of our great nation and will definitely keep our dear spouses from yapping at us every five minutes by asking us "When are you going to quit looking like an idiot and buy some suspenders?" You can see that the subject of suspenders is about as wide as it is deep and that there are many more unexplained aspects to this topic that I guarantee will be covered in a timely fashion in further posts on this blog for the countless folks still consumed with concerns over this very issue. Never mind the subprime mortgages, the recession, the stock market, or whether your McDonald's burger will be flat as a pancake or five inches thick, just like shown in the TV ads: No, spend your time worrying about keeping your drawers up. That worry is important enough.
Now, are they a "Y" in back, or two separate over the shoulder holders, and...are they red? Enquiring minds want to know.
Posted by: molly | March 28, 2008 at 06:07 PM
REPLY FROM THE PROFESSOR
For my reply to Ms. Goatwax, you need to click on the link "Molly Goatwax" under favorite blog list on the right, and then go to her post of March 24, The Chair Club. You will see that she likes to photograph old and inspiring pictures of rusty lawn chairs. After all of her comments on my blog, I feel obligated to run her page view count up a small notch as a reward for faithful attention to the Professor's sarcastic comments by referring interested readers to the Baltimore culture scene.