A Memorial Day Apology

In case you missed it, yesterday was Memorial Day. If you're like most of us, you probably behaved as if the three-day weekend was simply a celebration of the unofficial start of summer. I know that's what I did. I spent the whole glorious weekend with family and friends, eating, drinking, laughing, and playing. I don't recall any of us mentioning the significance of the holiday, or pausing to give thanks and remember. But like I said, our actions, or lack thereof, reflected those of the majority of Americans.

I didn't give this "oversight" much consideration until lounging by the community pool yesterday. Our club offers Memorial Day festivities for the children, including a hat parade (which usually draws about two kids), water balloon toss, hula hoop contest, etc. Before kicking off the games, however, the pool manager started the afternoon by playing a recording of some classic rendition of "God Bless America." And do you know how the few hundred of us in attendance responded? We didn't. Rob took off his baseball hat, which was more than others did, but beyond that, nothing else changed. No one stood up. No one got out of the pool. No one stopped chatting, eating, or yelling at their kids. No one solemnly considered what it was we were commemorating. But actually, I'm wrong. At the beginning of the song, I did notice one little boy standing by the pool with his hand over his heart. But when I looked for him a couple minutes into it, he was gone. Probably felt foolish being the only one standing there "pledging allegiance."

For the record, I'm not one whom you will find chanting "USA is #1" at a rally or even at the killing of Osama Bin Laden. I'm not a proponent of "Might makes right," and I don't believe we should be the world's policeman. I do wish the military would have to hold a bake sale to purchase their next fighter jet and that our schools would have everything they need to educate tomorrow's leaders. And I would never be so naive as to believe America is always in the right and never commits atrocities like other countries. I do, however, believe without a shadow of a doubt, that our freedom and way of life has been bought with the lives of the men and women who paid the ultimate sacrifice. And I believe they deserve more than a BBQ in which we celebrate having a day off rather than celebrating everything they gave for this country.

With that in mind I am committing to making future Memorial Days memorable for the right reasons. Here are a few ideas I found online to help us involve our children in celebrating the true purpose of this holiday:

• Participate in Memorial Day activities in your community.
• Teach your children how to display a flag with respect and dignity. Learn how to handle a flag when you raise and lower it.
• Encourage your children to talk with a veteran. Take the opportunity to speak with a relative or friend who has served in the armed forces and find out what it meant to them.
• Organize a trip to a nursing home to honor the older veterans.
• Have children make thank you cards for veterans they know or get in touch with the Veteran's Administration for information on how to contact local veterans.
  
• Visit a local cemetery to place flags and flowers on the graves of veterans.
• Visit the White House Commission on Remembrance website to find out ways to join the rest of the country at 3 p.m., local time, on Memorial Day to share a moment of remembrance together.

(Read more: "How to Teach Children About Memorial Day" | eHow.com)

For all who gave so much, I'm sorry for offering so little in return. We can't say "thank you" often enough.

3

Encourage your children to talk with a veteran. Take the opportunity to speak with a relative or friend who has served in the armed forces and find out what it meant to them. Organize a trip to a nursing home to honor the older veterans. Have children make thank you cards for veterans they know or get in touch with the Veteran's Administration for information on how to contact local veterans. Visit a local cemetery to place flags and flowers on the graves of veterans.

4

Teach your children the Pledge of Allegiance, patriotic songs and poems. Visit the White House Commission on Remembrance website to find out ways to join the rest of the country at 3 p.m., local time, on Memorial Day to share a moment of remembrance together. Have your children choose their own special way to spend their moment of remembrance, such as ringing a bell, a moment of silence or a moment in prayer.

Read more: How to Teach Children About Memorial Day | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/how_2123481_teach-children-memorial-day.html#ixzz1NvyXV8NB

Getting Naked and Cheating

Last night I finished reading my first e-book, and I have a confession to make. I really liked reading on my iPad. I didn't want to, honestly. It seems sacrilegious, given my career in publishing and the fact that I practically worship at the alter of my bookcase. There's something about a book--holding it, turning the pages, looking at the pictures, seeing it waiting for me on a a shelf--that makes me all aflutter. But it's undeniable that the e-book thing has its advantages.

Bonus points: Tell me what you see
in this book cover image.

The e-book with which I cheated on all my printed books was Juliet, Naked by Nick Hornby. I loved this book. As much as a I read it's still relatively rare that I will wake up thinking about a book I just finished. Today I woke up at 5:00 a.m. (damn cat), and found myself thinking about the joy that was Juliet, Naked. Okay, that didn't come out right, but you know what I mean.

If you've ever seen the movies High Fidelity or About a Boy, you know something of Nick Hornby's style. I'd describe it as a superior combination of bright, witty, ironic, and altogether human. Laugh-out-loud funny at times, while painfully real. He creates amazingly engaging and flawed characters.

In Juliet, Naked we meet Duncan and Annie, two fairly colorless individuals who have been living together without passion or, perhaps even love, for 15 years. Home is the lifeless seaside English town of Gooleness. Perhaps so named because it rhymes with, but is the opposite of, "coolness." For their entire relationship, Annie has played second fiddle to Duncan's adoration and obsession with Tucker Crowe, a reclusive only-moderately-successful rocker described as a combination of Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, and Leonard Cohen. More than 20 years ago, Tucker abruptly disappeared from the music scene, leaving a small cult following behind. The discovery of an unreleased album (Juliet, Naked) which Annie boldly (and negatively) reviews on the Tucker Crowe fan website, starts in motion a chain reaction which brings these three together with life-changing and thought-provoking results.

If you want to be entertained in a smart, thoughtful way, this is the book for your summer reading. Pick up Juliet, Naked. (And stop thinking about picking up Juliet, naked. Do you even know a Juliet? Who's named Juliet these days?)

Hiddy Ho There, Neighbor!

In honor of what would have been Mister Rogers 83-5/6th birthday, I want to ask, "Who are the people in your neighborhood?"

Last night I drove through a neighborhood in my community that I particularly like. It has neatly and closely arranged Cape Cods made of brick or stone, and the yards are full of tall trees and children's toys. There's something about this neighborhood that says "We're friendly and down to earth here. You would like us."

Like many suburban areas, my township is made up of different neighborhoods, including:

• The "It" neighborhood where people with status (and money) live
• The country club neighborhood where the rest of the money lives
• The party neighborhood where beer drinkers feel most at home
• The helpful neighbors neighborhood where everyone pitches in to shovel snow, rake leaves, etc. I believe there's a fair amount of drinking taking place here as well.
• The mandatory "sketchy" neighborhood where you can probably get your bike stolen

Mine could best be defined as "closest to a major highway neighborhood." It's a commuter's dream. It's also a circle which means the borders of our neighborhood are extremely well-defined.

I like my circle and don't even notice the highway noise anymore. I like that:

• There are lots of kids, including a few who are the same age as mine
• Most of these children leave me alone
• The one who did cause trouble seems to have outgrown his criminal phase. We think.
• The ladies have a book club
• My neighbors are cool enough to invite to our annual bonfire. This keeps them from reporting us to the authorities.
• It's diverse.

Now that last bullet point may surprise some of you who probably assumed I live in lily white suburbia with all middle class families. In reality, my circle may be one of the most diverse neighborhoods in our township. For example, we have:

• Chinese immigrants
• A mini United Nations family with an Italian husband by way of South America and an Indian wife. Their beautiful baby girl is a stunning combination of the two.
• Required crabby old lady
• Single mom with an adopted biracial daughter.
• African American families
• Families that can't be bothered with anyone else (a.k.a. "family with really high hedges")
• The 20-something grandson living with his grandmother, having a BBQ with friends, drinking beer, and playing wiffle ball about every other weekend (My invite has apparently been lost in the mail)
• A Jewish family
• A three-legged dog
• A guy who rides a noisy motorcycle
• A first generation Irish girl married to an Irish boy
• A man who runs constantly. Seriously. Always. Running.

We used to have a bitter old German lady when we first moved in, but she moved back to Germany because she didn't like where we stored our trash cans. 

If this sounds like a neighborhood you would enjoy living in, you're in luck! Four houses on the circle are currently for sale. I'm not sure if that means there's a radon problem or if folks are fed up with GPS burglaries, but really, it's a great place to live. And the realtors haven't even sponsored this post.

If you're interested in seeing my neighborhood, give a shout. I'd love to show you the three-legged dog!

Mothers Being Badly

Well it's no wonder I only got one comment on my last post (thanks, Jim). What a rambling, self-absorbed piece of frivolity that was! Sheesh. I'll be surprised if anyone comes back for more after that. Anyway, in case there's someone reading, I'd like to start out with a question...about you! Of course I'll eventually turn it back to me, but hey, it's my blog. And that kind of attitude is exactly what I want to talk about today. So here's my question: As an adult, do you ever behave like a brat?

Merriam-Webster defines brat as "a child; specifically an ill-manned, annoying child." Or, "an ill-mannered immature person."

I have to confess that I've been pretty bratty lately. And it's not PMS because I've been feeling this way for quite awhile now. I'm pretty sure, however, that bratty-ness is something I can blame on someone else. In other words, I'm only bratty when someone brings it out of me. Totally not my fault.

Case in point, a couple weeks ago I attended an event where someone I don't like was present. There are very few people I genuinely dislike, and even fewer I can't even fake it with. This person, however, falls into both categories. This presented me with an important decision as I considered my behavioral options:

• Truly Trying
• Charmingly Engaged
• Faking Friendly
• Cool & Aloof
• Complete Avoidance
• Downright Bratty

I won't tell you which option I went with. Let's just say I'm ashamed of myself. Really. I hate when I get like this and it lasts and lasts.

I encourage you to share your personal bratty story, just to make me feel better. And if you have a cure for bratty behavior, let me know!

P.S. Need proof of my bratty-ness? Today a friend and coworker told me I was being a brat, and she had no idea that was the topic of today's post. Sad, isn't it?

Music, Amusement, Church, and Beer

I learned a lot this weekend. First and foremost, I learned I must manage my schedule more effectively. For those of you who weren't blessed by my whining and complaining about the demands on my time, here's the scoop:

• Friday morning, 7:00 a.m. -- Left with 128 7th & 8th graders in the Strath Haven Middle School music department for "Music in the Parks," beginning with an adjudication at Kutztown University.
• Friday afternoon, 2:00 p.m. -- Accompanied students to Dorney Park where they frolicked with hundreds/thousands of other Music in the Park geeks kids.
• Friday early evening, 6:30 p.m. -- Made our way to the Food Fest Grove (a misnomer because they offered us no food) for the awards ceremony at which the amazing talent from SHMS was deemed "Superior" (the highest rating) in all but one category (the cantabile, a select singing group Ian did not make. A coincidence that they earned merely an  "Excellent" rating without him? I think not).
• Friday evening, 8:30 p.m. -- Returned to SHMS 

Now this is where it gets tricky. Because of my faulty scheduling and my over eager desire to help out, I had also volunteered to chaperone the 4th & 5th grade lock-in (sleepover) at our church. Beginning at 7:00 p.m. Clearly something had to give. And that something turned out to be Rob. He took the first shift of the church event which included a 2-hour long stint at a family fun center 30 minutes away. They returned around 11:30 p.m. This meant I had to stay awake a long time to start  part two of my grand adventure:

• Friday, 11:30 p.m. -- Arrived at Media Presbyterian Church to join 25 wired 4th & 5th graders. 
• Friday, 11:45 p.m. -- Snack time. Popcorn, soft pretzels, fruit punch and lemonade. We sugared them up just before we asked them to settle down.
• Saturday, 12:15 a.m. -- Two rounds of Sardines. The game. Not the fish.
• Saturday, 1:00 a.m. -- Sleeping bags set out in youth room. Settled in for Karate Kid 2.
• Saturday, 3:30 a.m. -- Movie ends. Most kids sleeping. Kim, not sleeping, but recalling why I said I'd never do this again after my last time chaperoning this adventure.
• Saturday, 7:15 a.m. -- Rise and shine. 
• Saturday, 8:00 a.m. -- Parents arrived looking annoyingly incredibly well-rested. Take kids home.
• Saturday, 8:45 a.m. -- Crawled into bed.
• Saturday, 11:30 a.m. -- Crawled out of bed.
• Saturday, 12:30 p.m -- Friends arrived to accompany us to Craft Brewfest in downtown Media.
• Saturday, 1:00 p.m. -- Joined other friends at Brewfest. Drank beer.
• Saturday, 5:00 p.m. -- Finished beer drinking.
• Saturday, 5:30 p.m. -- Walked to new Mexican restaurant. Drank margarita. Discovered that after 4 hours of beer drinking I was willing to try Mexican food. 
• Saturday, 7:00 p.m -- Returned home with friends. Played poker. 
• Saturday, 9:00 p.m. -- Came in 2nd in poker game. Won no money.
• Saturday, 9:30 p.m. -- Crawled back in bed. 
• Sunday, 10:00 a.m. -- Crawled out of bed. Showered. Headed to church.

Over this 48+ hour period I made an number of observations. I'll try to keep them brief because I realize this is getting lengthy and you may actually having something important to do today. Here are the top 10 things I learned this past weekend:

1. Big talent can come out of small people.
2. If you want to mortify your 13-year-old son, wipe the dust and dirt off his pants while he's hanging with his friends. The dust and dirt on his tush. Follow-up with big hug.
3. 12 to 14-year-old boys yawn a lot while singing. 
4. If my teenage child comes home with a "Got Beer?" hat from an amusement park, I'm going to beat have a serious discussion with them. 
5. I am too old for roller coasters.
6. Skinny 9 to 11 year-old girls have an amazing ability to sound like elephants when they walk. In and out of the room. At 2:30 a.m. When I'm dying trying to sleep.
7. Metal doors that slam loudly have no place in a room where I'm trying to sleep. At 3:30 a.m.
8. Even 9 to 11 year-old girls can leave a room smelling funky after a sleepover. Or wake-over. Or maybe that was me.
9. Pretzel necklaces are a must at a brewfest. Next year we must double or triple the number of pretzels on our necklaces. 
10. When stopped by a cop while driving home from a brewfest, it's best to not be wearing your "Does this Shirt Make Me Look Drunk?" tee. (No, that didn't happen. But I'm, pretty sure it would be bad.)

 

 

Well I'm exhausted just having recapped the weekend. Going to take a nap now. How was your weekend?

What about the Man?

The response to Monday's "You Call It Bigamy, I Call It a Break" post was overwhelmingly positive. Women seemed to support the idea and clearly see the benefits of having sister-wives. Interestingly, not a single man commented on my proposal. One would think that they would be thrilled with having a bevy of women to call their own. But then again, as my husband pointed out, "you'd have to remember all those birthdays." I believe in male-ese that translates into "you'd have to listen to exponentially greater amounts of nagging."

Those women who expressed an interest in joining me as sister-wives had just one question:

How do we select the man?

An excellent question, indeed. And I should note that not one of them suggested or requested their own husband. Interesting...

In the interest of harmony at home, I will recommend my husband, Rob MacPherson. He has a great deal going for him, including an excellent sense of humor, intelligence, a love of children (much greater than my own), an easy going nature, a good job, and access to Phillies tickets. I must warn you, however, that he can be volatile when hungry, lacking caffeine, watching the Phils lose, or attempting home repairs.

Understanding that my husband may not be every woman's cup of tea (though I can't imagine why), I do see value in my friend Emily's suggestion that we rotate them in and out. There are definite advantages to this approach:

• We wouldn't get bored
• They wouldn't get overwhelmed by having so many demanding, nagging different women to please
• And most importantly, each man has something different to offer. For example:
• Kim G.'s husband has home improvement skills
• Dawn's husband likes to clean more than any woman I've ever met
• Theresa's guy enjoys coaching sports teams and knows how to handle multiple boys as well as Sunday school classes
• Rebecca's husband enjoys seeing Broadway musicals and also writing them!
• Karen A's man is a chef (we may rotate him in more often than others)
• Mo's husband enjoys boating and fishing (this is important to me, hence it makes the list)
• Kim S.'s husband is like the Pied Piper. Kids just gravitate toward him.
• Emily's husband can give surfing lessons and teach poetry writing

Please note that if I didn't include your husband in this list it's either because he is a Mets fan (there are some things that just aren't acceptable, even in bigamy), a "dumbass," or I couldn't think of anything off the top of my head. It's not because they have nothing to offer. I hope.

So there you have it, ladies. A foolproof plan to give ourselves a break and bond together with those who best understand and appreciate us. What could go wrong?

You Call It Bigamy, I Call It a Break

Mother's Day got me thinking about that West African proverb "It takes a whole village to raise a child." The "whole village" idea got me thinking about communes. Communes, however, can include more than one man. I figure women can get by, as a group, with only one man. To do the heavy lifting and mow the grass. Since a commune is out of the question because of that multiple men thing, I decided I'm willing to entertain the Mormon concept of sister wives. "Bigamy" has such a negative connotation, but the idea of sister wives holds definite appeal.

This is a shocking statement from a woman who, for more than half her life, overwhelmingly preferred the company of men to the company of women. I don't know whether it's marriage, motherhood, age, or all the Freakin' Angels in my life, but somewhere along the line, I switched allegiances. Now I can't imagine life without the ladies.

So back to this idea of sister wives. If you have close relationships with any of the women in your life, the advantages of this concept are obvious. Besides being more often relieved of certain wifely obligations and having regular breaks from the kids, the sister wives arrangement presents an opportunity to take the best from each other and play to one another's strengths. In thinking about just a few of the women I'd like to invite into my sister wives community, it's clear that we could cover a great deal of ground, improve ourselves individually, and raise some well-rounded and impressive children. Here's a sampling of what they have to offer:

• Cathie - fashion sense and well-dressed children
• Dawn - clean children
• Karen - craft brew expertise and fitness training (an odd combination, I know)
• Jen - creativity, science, teaching
• Kim G. - kindness, thoughtfulness, and faith-building
• Emily - college admissions (she's my Ivy leaguer) and advice for achieving professional success while raising a family
• Mo - organizational skills and attention to detail
• Theresa - cooking, knitting, sewing, nurturing
• Kim S. - If I recall correctly, I think she loves to clean?
• Mindy - Math
• Karen A. - an easy-going, healthy approach to life, plus an expert in the delivery room (babies, not mail)
• Kathy W. - legal expertise (to represent the sister wife who eventually smothers our one husband with a pillow)
• Lori - speech therapy and other stuff to help kids
• Andria - arts & crafts
• Rebecca - cultural adviser (movies, Broadway plays, writing) and sister wife "in-house" minister

Teaming up with these women would leave me with nothing to do except catch up on my reading and movie viewing. See how perfect this is?

In addition to sharing the load and raising the kids, sister wives would provide the support, encouragement, and sensitivity that men struggle with. They know how to listen without trying to solve, know when to offer a tissue, hug, or shoulder, and know to stay out of your way when you're emotionally unstable. 

Before I leave you with an invitation to consider my sister wives proposal, I'd like to add just one more woman to the mix. Freakin' Angel Ann Bates is a doctor, healer, and one of the most faithful believers I've ever met. I wrote about Ann last April, shortly before she and her husband and young son Nicholas moved to Princeton. At that time, Ann was on the mend from a bone marrow transplant, about eight years after she survived brain cancer. I'm saddened to say that today Ann is undergoing surgery to remove a new brain tumor. I'm certain that before she arrived at the hospital this morning, her thoughts were with her friends and family and whether they would all be okay through this. Her spirits were positive and encouraged and her faith rested in God.

Do me a favor and 1) count your blessings, 2) give thanks for the Freakin' Angels in your life, 3) pray for Ann, her family, and her complete recovery.  Trust me - this is a woman you want in your sister wives mix.

From Garanimals to Everything Goes

If there's one thing that divides parents it's determining what our children are ready for at what age. This applies to:

• "mature" rated video games and R-rated movies
• cell phones and Facebook
• make-up and certain clothing
• dating, parties, and curfews
• Harry Potter, Hunger Games, and Twilight series
• tattoos and piercings
• the evening news

This is a short list, reflective of where my head is these days, but you get the idea.

Many parents think kids today grow up too fast, are exposed to too much, too soon, and are stressed by the need to keep up, take the fast track, play varsity and go Ivy league--all starting in preschool. I get that. There are definitely elements of childhood today that leave me scratching my head, frustrated, and disappointed at the expectations we put on kids, and at the places they want to go, the things they want to see, and the stuff they want to do at such a young age.

But then there's 5th grade chorus.

Last night I attended our elementary school's 5th grade choral concert. And it was there that I decided it's possible to go too far in the other direction. Away from rushing our kids into maturity and instead treating them like kindergartners. When Ian was in 5th grade chorus, he hated it. His friends hated it. What could be so bad about chorus, you ask? Well, it might be the song choices (can you say "Casey Jones" and "Yankee Doodle Dandy"?). It might be the choreographed movements and poses. Perhaps it's the plastic toy train whistle. Or maybe it was the silly warm up, photo opp faces that the director required before beginning the performance. Truly, the only thing missing in this concert were matching Garanimals outfits and patent leather shoes.

I know I'm being harsh. I know the teacher means well and thinks she's doing right by these kids, but I also see her turning them off to singing. I find it amazing that any of these students voluntarily join choral groups when they get to the middle school. I'm not proposing they start performing Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, 50 Cent, or Ke$ha, but there's got to be something in between that the kids can relate to, get into, and actually enjoy singing and performing. And most likely it isn't a song that was written in 1902.

Teaching students and raising children is no easy task. We want them to stay innocent, sweet, and unblemished by reality. But we also want them to grow up to be confident, strong, and independent. We're always seeking a balance between what's right and what's fair, what's popular and what's appropriate.

Rather than stress about making the right decisions, I tell myself that in the end it just doesn't matter. Regardless of what I do, the kids are bound to blog about me some day. Turnabout is fair play...

This is not a post about Bin Laden

I was going to write about the Osama Bin Laden thing, but that's yesterday's news. Thinking about public enemy #1 while dressing for the gym did provide me with another post idea, however. And this post starts with a riddle (fun, right!)

What do the war against terror, Yankees baseball, Abby's teen years, and my workouts at the gym all have in common? 

Come on,  you can do this...

I'm waiting...

Okay, at this rate I'll be here all day. The answer, of course, is uniforms! Need me to walk you through this? Here we go:

1. Military personnel wear uniforms. The military helped bring down Bin Laden and are on the front lines in our war against terror. But on a lighter note, there may be nothing more attractive in the whole world than a man in uniform. I could die happy in Annapolis or at West Point. I realize the Navy Seals probably weren't wearing their nice uniforms to kill Osama, but still, the thought of these heroes eventually took me to military uniforms. And Annapolis. And young men in uniforms. You get the idea.
2. Baseball players wear uniforms. You're wondering why I mentioned the Yankees specifically? Because I like their style. Not of their uniforms per se, but their uniformity. Ever notice the Yankees are the only team that currently doesn't put the player's name on the back of their jersey? The Yankees would tell you it's because it's the name on the front of the jersey that matters, and it's not about the individual. You know, "There's no I" in team." The only other thing worth liking about the Yankees is that they have rules regarding a player's appearance: no jewelry, no chewing, clean shaven, and presentable haircuts. They may suck in every other way, but at least they look like nice young men.
3. Abby, in the teen years, should wear a uniform. A school uniform, ideally (versus a MacDonald's uniform. Not that there's anything wrong with working at McD's, other than that she would come home smelling like grease. But I digress.). She's only 10 now, but I foresee the battle challenge of mom versus daughter when she wants to wear skirts I think are too short. Heck, she currently thinks wearing pajamas in public is fine. Needless to say I don't trust her judgment. School uniforms would be such a blessing. Remember how nice that Hermione Granger looked in her sweater or robes at Hogwarts? To hell with allowing kids to express their individuality. They can do that in college when I don't have to look at them. And if everyone was in uniform I would never have to hear that Abby is the only one of her friends without real Ugg boots. She's also the only one of her friends who has to do work around the house. But that's a different blog post.
4. For my workouts, I wish I had a uniform. Sigh. I miss Tang Soo Do. I used to have a uniform. It was so easy to dress for class. White top. White pants (with elastic...bonus!). Black belt. A nice look. But now that I'm working out at the gym I have to think about what I'm wearing. I put more consideration into my gym clothes than I do my clothes for the office, for cryin' out loud. I have to decide if the cute outfit looks like I'm trying too hard, or if the stretchy pants make my butt look big, and if the t-shirt I'm wearing covers said butt. I have to look good without looking like I'm trying to look good. Got that?

So I propose we aim to incorporate uniforms into every possible aspect of our lives. We'd save money. No one would ever feel badly about themselves. And we'd save oodles of time getting ready to go out.

Now that we've killed Osama and all our problems are solved, the government will have time on its hands. I think I can get this uniform idea presented before Congress for an official vote. Although there may be more to the process than that. I should probably watch School House Rock and brush up with "I'm Just a Bill" before I take this to my local representative. Wouldn't want to look bad. Of course, looking bad wouldn't be a problem....if we were all wearing uniforms.

If you want to get all serious on me, feel free to share your opinions on uniforms (school, military, baseball, you name it).