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Hey, Nancy Boy!
Since the dawn of time, mankind has sought to cover himself from nature.
To protect his hide from his harsh environment. Presumably this started
after the development of tools - for, how can early man skin a saber tooth
with his bare hands. Not easily, I assure you.
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And as his tools matured so did his taste in armor. (For, after all - what
is a coat but armor from the elements?) He sought warmer coats from larger
animals. Furrier skins and softer pelts. And as man began to slaughter
nature's K-Mart something began to happen. He discovered that some pelts
were pretty. (Actually, I'm sure it was his wife who discovered this, but
I digress.) Sooner or later he discovered that it would be cool to wear
the zebra's stripes and stunning to display the lion's mane. We've all
seen the old pictures of the Zulu tribesman and his Panther Pelt. And the
first man to dawn the leopard skin was the first recorded Nancy Boy. His
attire shouted "Look at me - I'm pretty! Zoonga Galoonga Goonga!"
However, it also demanded quite a bit of respect. Those of us who have sat
at the zoo and poked one of those big cats with a stick know - those
kittens are ferocious creatures who would just as soon rip out your throat
than play with a ball of string. So while he was a little fancy in the
pants, he was also a big time game hunter. His special attire a badge of
courage.
This same behavior holds true today. We wear our chinos of valor. Our
khakis of courage. These have become the pelts of our latest triumph. The
nicer the pants - the more victorious we have become in the business
jungle. Our financial success. If this weren't true, Versace wouldn't
sell a suit for ten grand. Our Rolex timepiece has become our trophy.
"Look, I hunted down the deal and won! It's a sparkly jangle that also
tells me it's time... Time to cut another deal. HA! HA! HA!" (Note: Some
of us wear the $10 New York version to show that we too understand this
status symbol and that we saw this type of business transaction happen on
TV once.)
Now some of you are reading this and wondering, "Nick Sweeney, how can you,
co-founder of the Heritage Club, an elitist men's organization, speak in
such a way? To poke fun of the quest for cash. To make jest at the high
status symbols. To place the elite fashion industry on the cutting block!
You hypocritical fool!" To that, I guffaw. To joke, to mock, to lampoon,
to imitate... These are all signs of flattery. And, whether we want to
admit it or not, a 250 thread count cotton t-shirt feels a lot better than
a 50 thread count poly cotton blend. (Unless of course you have a calloused
covered back, and if that's the case I don't want to know.) The downside is
that the nicer clothes have designer labels and are thus, expensive. So,
in order to afford such comforting attire you must be successful. And
successful usually points to big time player with all the Benjamins.
(Don't get into the happiness vs money argument, that's a rant for another
day.)
So, those of you who have bothered to read this far are wondering... "What
the hell does this have to do with anything? You ranting maniacal
out-of-work know-it-all!" Well - you just answered the question. I'm out
of work, which means it's Job Hunting Season. Duck Season! Job Hunting
Season! And that means I gotta put on my fancy pants. That means I have
to figure out what the hell a tie is. (Glamorous scarf?) And I have to
decide between the Windsor and the Double Windsor. I have to make my shoes
all spit and polish. I have to pay the big bucks to get my suits
dry-cleaned. (Suits that smell like the bar of the last wedding I was at.)
I have to remember to watch me grammar and to nots swear so friggin' much.
And I gots to remember to not use no double negatives. (That's a big one.)
I have to remember to leave my baseball hat in the car.
And it's important to get it all right. To make the package complete. To
sell yourself as Mr. Success. To walk in tall, big smile, firm handshake,
charming personality. You're walking into a new group of hunters.
Presumably better hunters than yourself - for, why else would you be there.
And they're eyeing you up and down. Checking out your spear, examining
your package and checking out your furs. (Stop snickering!) It's all about
being a tough, brave warrior. Your clothes, style and receding hairline
make a difference and a statement. Big time hunters know other big time
hunters when the see them. To be the part you have to dress the part.
We all remember the scene in Animal House when Otter and Boone are
addressing the new pledges. They picked out the weak one right away.
"That's a nice tie - your mom get this for you? Hey, Boone! Come check this
out!"
Look for Mr. Sweeney's article "The Romance of Ms. Jelly Doughnut and Mr.
Silk Tie." later this week.
**The opinions expressed in Weekly Commentary are those of Mr. Sweeney and his alone. Any attempt at finding sanity or logic in his rantings are feeble, at best.
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