A Common Boston Gentleman

Part Deux

Thu, 04 Apr 2013 13:13:05 -0400

The gentleman figure has been co-opted by profit-seeking entities (clothing companies, magazines, even blogs like this one) and divorced from his essential telos, that is, to act as a moral and mannered human being (as opposed, necessarily, to an immoral and ill-mannered one), regardless of status, creed, code, or color.

Applying the adjective “common” to the loaded concept of gentility, or the genteel person, then, democratizes the concept and has endless real-world implications. For example, the gentleman of history would feel obligated to patronize his local tailor in order to distribute his wealth and keep the bloke in business. The common gentleman, however, feels no such obligation towards any type of patronage, may not have any wealth to speak of and may prefer the natural-shouldered Brooks Brothers suits of 1980s that he finds at his local Salvation Army —- indeed, he may not wear a suit at all.

There are innumerable ways to be a good man, perhaps; I can only hope to put forth my understanding of one of them on these computer screen pages.

A Gentleman's Agreement

Sat, 02 Mar 2013 18:55:20 -0500

Let’s get out of bed in the morning and (in addition to whatever else we do: pray, reach for a cigarette, get back into bed) begin with a thought experiment.

If this is too difficult amidst the thick fog of early morning delirium, a simple visualization will do.

Imagine, good sir, that you are ten years into a life sentence. You’ve had the misfortune of finding yourself in solitary confinement. You spend 23+ hours a day alone. You have a window, which is about six inches wide and it comprises the extent of your experience of the outside world. Imagine the interior life of this man.

Flash back to your groggy-eyed morning self.

How would you look upon this opportunity if you had been granted one day of leave outside of the prison (supervised, of course, by friends in blue)? Assuming that you wouldn’t head out into the world to rape and murder, but, rather, you’d go about your business in the traditional fashion with an informed mindset. What would that look like?

Ultimately, assuming this shift in perspective doesn’t change the “what” of one’s day, but rather the “how.” CBG encourages you to examine the marrow of that experience and internalize it. Perhaps, substitute it for the marrow of your own brittle bones.

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Fri, 24 Aug 2012 11:23:52 -0400

An Honest and Unresearched Obit

Mon, 06 Aug 2012 12:52:34 -0400

Gore Vidal died this week.

In America (and perhaps everywhere) we sing the praises of dead people we are told are important, whether we personally have any conception of the deceased’s significance, or not…or whether we liked them or not.

With this in mind, rather than refer to Wikipedia, or the author’s obituary in the New York Times, I’d like to delve into the particular significance of Mr. Vidal and his work to me, personally.

Vidal was a member of the American ruling class, travelling in the same social circles as President Kennedy. I believe he even ran for office himself, but that his mainstream marketability as a politician was compromised by his politics….and the fact that he wrote about homosexuality in a relatively nonchalant way in The City and The Pillar…which I never read.

I heard an interview with Vidal on NPR’s Fresh Air in which the author referred to the fact that few great writers come from the upper class and that great writing (and really, writing in general) is a middle class phenomenon. With respect to writing in America, Mr. Vidal is entirely correct and the point is an interesting one.

He also discussed the fundamental incompatibility between writing and politics, identifying the fact that a writer must always tell the truth and that a politician is compelled to “not give the game away.” While this is both a truism and an elevated perspective on writing, it’s an interesting distinction from a man who was uniquely positioned in both arenas.

Vidal also stands, for me, as the classical liberal scion in contrast to the Burkean conservativism of William F. Buckley, whom he debated very publically over a period of years. I generally sided more with the latter than the former, but more importantly, I appreciate spirited, public debate from intellectuals outside of the ivory tower.

I have heard his memoir is worth read.

Perhaps, I’ll give it a look.

Breaking Nonsense

Thu, 02 Aug 2012 16:33:00 -0400

If you haven’t had the time to check TMZ today, let me fill you in on the earth shattering occurrences of mind-boggling significance you missed.

“Janet Jackson Did Not Slap or Abuse Paris Jackson”

“Kerri Walsh: I’m Playing With Pinkeye”

“Cuba Gooding Jr….No More Arrest Warrant, Says Rep”

Not only are the aforementioned headlines significant, it’s difficult to imagine what life was like before finding out about these instances of minutia in the lives of athletes and celebrities.

Our celebrity and athlete crazed culture is not only fundamentally misguided but also dangerously inferior to a culture which concerns itself with duty, virtue and achievements of social significance.

Gossip has been around forever, to be sure. We can imagine cavemen sitting by the fire speaking ill of a fellow Neanderthal who was having a problem beneath his loincloth.

Whether in the Renaissance, Elizabethan times or the Victorian era, it seems the more rigid the social structure, the more prevalent the gossip was. One thinks of the almost necessarily duplicitous nature of court life and the chattering of maidens.

To gossip, really, is to edge perilously close to the waters of envy and malice. At the very least, it’s an entirely idle pastime. Gossiping breeds a culture of venomous double talk and unwarranted fascination with the private affairs of others.

This has, as I said, probably always been the case. I am not sure when the first gossip rag went to press, but I believe I am safe in assuming that it was well before Parsons and Hopper penned competing columns in the 1930’s.

The problem, really, is both that CNN has become People Magazine and that the culture of the tabloid and spectacular conjecture which exploded at a grocery store check out near you in the 80’s and 90’s took a quantum leap forward (backward) at dawn of Web 1.0, and again with the democratic/egalitarian thrust of Web 2.0.

We are a culture obsessed with the immediate and the surface in a way which has no historical parallel. With the real time imperative of “news” and information and constant impulse to check our phones or hit the refresh button, we hardly have the patience to sit through the five o’clock news, let alone open the paper to see what the hell’s going on and what it means.

It is altogether easier to devour the details of the latest breakup or sex scandal than to actually think about the implications of, say, arming Syrian rebels.

This is problematic.

When issues of virtue and values are presented on our screens, it is usually in the negative. For example, it’s newsworthy when a segment of the population complains that it’s not morally acceptable for a culture to permit abortion or extend marriage rights to homosexuals. It’s considered newsworthy as well when the oppositional viewpoints are presented, but only as a function of reaction to the previous.

Fine. Well enough.

It should be equally newsworthy (and obvious) that we’re less diligent and conscientious at work when we’re checking our smartphones and social media pages.

We should be more concerned with human interest stories of real significance. For example: the thousands of children caring for their dying parents and the devotion therein.

Or, the courage of the millions in the United States alone suffering through the horror regimen of cancer treatment.

Or, the great work being done by great nonprofits.

The flipside of scandal, that is, the gross breach of social covenants, is the adherence to those covenants. The adherence is the thing, not the breach. What is noteworthy is not one celebrity beating his wife, but rather the 99% of men who would never dream of doing such a thing.

We ought to get our heads around that. If nearly a million people a day were engaged in the thoughtful digestion of the world’s current events from a reputable source (rather than the irrelevant nonsense of TMZ), I’d feel much better about our society.

I want to be wrong about this.

Please, free me from my nostalgia for an imagined past. Stop my cane-waving hysterics. Show me that we are not a culture, which appeals almost exclusively to the lowest common denominator and is infatuated with ambulance chasing and spectacle in a revolting and totally unprecedented way.

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Mon, 30 Jul 2012 16:18:16 -0400

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Fri, 27 Jul 2012 17:59:52 -0400

Reflections By A Shoe Shine Guy

Sun, 15 Jul 2012 17:23:00 -0400

As I’ve previously alluded to, I worked in the locker room of a country club for a few years.

In addition to having to watch overweight middle-aged and elderly men strut about in various stages of undress, I was responsible for shining both the dress shoes and golf shoes of the membership.

Most men at the club didn’t particularly care if their shoes were recently shined. This surprised me. If a mirror-like foot covering is at one end of the spectrum and something purchased for $19.99 with a sole falling off that’s never been near a Kiwi product, or even a wet rag, in its life is at the other end of the spectrum, most men seemed pretty comfortable with their dress shoes (and I use the term very generously) and golf shoes leaning much more towards the latter end of the spectrum.

I don’t mean to encourage vanity. St. Peter probably won’t be checking the shine on your shoes when you arrive at the pearly gates. I’m not saying a man’s shoes need to pass military inspection every day of the week, but shouldn’t they pass inspection sometimes?

The prevalence of the rubber soled abomination from the Sketcher’s “dress shoe” collection also astounded me. I am not an advocate for bespoke footwear for most men. I am not asking you to fly to London to be fitted for your shoes. Bass, Johnston & Murphy, Alden and Allen Edmonds will all do just fine. Shoes ought to be an investment, not an afterthought.

Also, for heaven’s sake, if you’re wearing a suit and oxfords, I ought to be able to hear you walking behind me on the street. I am thoroughly confounded by the number of power suits which are paired with gumshoes…the sole of a men’s dress shoe is made of wood.

If you find yourself in a situation where you are paying someone to shine your shoes in 2012, a $5 is de rigeur. Likewise, if you can’t afford to peel a fin out of the iron jaws of your wallet, you shouldn’t be having your shoes shined. Wear Crocs instead.

Caring about your shoes seems to be correlated with caring about…well, you fill in the blank. Caring about your appearance in general. Caring about your life. Caring about going to the gym. Caring about playing golf well. Caring about your family. Caring about what scotch you drink. Were there men with worn Sketchers that seemed to have things together otherwise and played golf well? Yes. They were, however, the overwhelming exception.

The specific mechanics of a shoe shine are not alchemy, although a disturbing percentage of the members seemed wary of engaging in what they regarded as an esoteric science. You clean the shoe, either with a damp rag or a leather cleaner. You a first coat of polish, preferably with a brush in small circles and you let it dry. Following this it’s time for the brush, with which you polish the shoe in broad strokes, toe, sides and heel. If necessary, you apply a second coat of polish and repeat the aforementioned. Finish buffing the toe with a rag for an additional bit of shine, or an express shine sponge, if you are so vulgar.

Certainly, there are an endless number of variations on the above, but those are the basic maneuvers.

There were a few men who obsessed over their shoes. There is really no pleasing this type of shoe fetishist: he who scours StyleForum for the tips for antiquing his brogues, or has spent 1/20th of his annual net income on a pair of John Lobbs. While I appreciate the concern for quality footwear, I don’t support making the things an idol or mourning the first scratch on a pair like the loss of one’s firstborn.

Shining shoes in general may be a dying art, but shining golf shoes is soon going to be a dead art. Within the next few years, all golf shoes will be either look like cross trainers or Vans, neither of which require much maintenance or care, beyond a wet rag. As golf in has become more of a sport, “requiring” sport specific gear, it has become much more casual. There was always going to be a tension between the gentleman’s country clothes and the relatively physical activity of playing a round of golf, so in a sense, it’s not surprising. As long as there are men in suits, it seems, there will be dress shoes. As long as they are made of leather or synthetic leather, I hope they will be recently shined and well-made.

The Sillines and Sublimity of Using The Right Fork

Wed, 11 Jul 2012 16:03:41 -0400

Start from the outside and work your way in. So says the conventional wisdom on which utensil to use.

In the Victorian house every room had a purpose. The same understanding applies to silverware: each course—and further, every dish—has a particular utensil assigned to it, whether this be the oyster fork or the salad knife…

This is all rather silly, though. Isn’t it?

At the local diner, the waitress rushes through your place setting while greeting you in a cigarette voice asking if you’d like coffee: fork, knife, spoon (maybe) and paper napkin. If you get dessert, you keep your fork and you use the damn thing again.

What’s wrong with that?

At a formal dinner, there’s no logistical reason why buttering a roll with a fish knife wouldn’t work. Perhaps, there’s no logical reason, either, save for decorum, which is rather the point.

We live in a tremendously informal age, and in many cases, we are better for it. Our leaders aren’t enjoying a bite or two of each dish in a 17 course meal and throwing the rest away while we endure hollow faced, subsisting on ash cakes.

Is something lost, when even our formal dinners are trending towards the informal? In America, I suppose, with our merchant ruling class, we were always going to end up here, with our plutocrats hungering more for Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse than dinner at the club (and dinner at the club trending more towards dinner at Ruth’s).

I’m not sure that absence of formality, in whatever sense, necessarily engenders crudeness. After all, decorum, really, is a function of context. One can observe standards of propriety at iHop, although such standards are a bit different than those at a Great House 150 years ago.

However, I find myself longing for the sort of rigidity of a formal dinner, on occasion and for the inflexibility of structure in Victorian life. Certainly, this is tempered by an acknowledgment of the glaring deficiencies of such a caste system, and a general disdain for the inherent snobbery and inequality.

Perhaps, it’s romance, nostalgia and a whitewashed rendering of things which compels me. Finding myself on an episode of Downton Abbey, I’d likely be excusing myself to the nearest fish and chips joint.

Hogan the Gentleman

Mon, 02 Jul 2012 20:01:00 -0400

In the pantheon of the golfing greats, amongst Nicklaus, Palmer, Snead, Nelson, Jones and Hagen, Ben Hogan occupies a truly unique place.

Perhaps, this is because of his apparent mastery of the golf swing and the assumption that had he not nearly died in a vicious car crash (which resulted in awful circulation in his legs, near blindness in one eye, and extreme pain throughout most of his body for the rest of his life), or spent nearly two years in the Army during World War II, he would have been able to compete in (and presumably win) many more tournaments than his 60+ professional victories.

His unique place, too, might have something to do with the heroic narrative of his life; even before a Greyhound bus crossed the center lane, opening a most poignant chapter in the story of golf in America. Hogan’s rise from poverty, famously selling newspapers and sleeping in bunkers to be the first caddy at work while honing his skills in solitude is an arresting tale, and one which seems quintessentially American.

This isn’t to take into account the fact that his father, Chester, shot himself in the chest near to or in front of the young Ben Hogan, or to speculate as to the powerful, personal and awful import of that event in the golfer’s life.

Hogan would have likely succeeded in whatever career path he chose. During his early struggles on Tour, he contemplated quitting the game for a career in banking or finance. Despite the fact that he didn’t graduate high school, his diligence and analytical mind, as well as a reported IQ of 155, would have ensured success.

He did, of course, succeed with his business venture, The Ben Hogan Golf Company, and, for a while at least, produced the best irons in golf.

Hogan, then, was a tremendously successful golfer and a successful businessman, as well.

However, he was, at least according to Kris Tschetter in her recent book about the golfing great, mostly concerned with being remembered as a good man and a gentleman, rather than as a great golfer, or as the architect of the modern golf swing.

He placed a great value on modesty and not giving offense, famously clipping the labels out of his shirts and having his pants tailored to avoid the possibility of his fly coming undone.

He dressed in dark, conservative colors, with clothes perfectly creased, looking like a military officer out of uniform. If you do a Google search for photos of Hogan off the golf course, you’d be hard pressed to find a picture of the man without a coat and tie.

Even after 50 years of marriage, he still stood up when his wife left the table.

Perhaps, he was not the most warm and inviting, although this is easily explained considering the traumatic events of his childhood. From all reports, though, he may have been curt, on occasion, but never rude.

His replies were often brief, but always thoughtful.

He neglected to cash in on the goodwill associated with his name and open a chain of golf teaching schools because he felt he couldn’t give the personalized attention to each customer that would be expected at a Ben Hogan golf school.

He was quietly generous to those he knew to be in need and left a great deal of money to his church, although formal philanthropy was never a top priority for the man. With the recent creation of the Ben Hogan Foundation, however, a charitable mandate has been established in Hogan’s name.

In one sense, Hogan lived a magnificent and remarkable life. As he aged, though, his battered body becoming less and less cooperative, before the cancer and (suspected) Alzheimer’s set in, Hogan settled into a simple life of hitting balls during the day at Shady Oaks Country Club, having lunch in the grill room and returning home to his wife. He’d had enough of life on the road. Having driven hundreds of thousands of miles in his life, he rarely left Fort Worth. After stepping away from golf and from his golf company, Hogan’s life was relatively unremarkable.

However, one might imagine, Hogan behaved with the same conscientiousness and consideration in paying for a candy bar at a gas station in Fort Worth as he did when being awarded the green jacket. This is the mark of a gentleman, and, indeed, the American gentleman.

Hogan went from being a newsie to being featured on front page of the New York Times, and then chose to live a relatively nondescript middle class life, conducting himself as a true gentleman in each arena.

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Mon, 25 Jun 2012 15:15:26 -0400

todayinsportpics: 11 June 1950: When you are involved in a...

Mon, 18 Jun 2012 20:25:10 -0400

todayinsportpics:

11 June 1950: When you are involved in a head-on collision with a bus and only survive it because you throw yourself across the seat to protect your wife you’re pretty much just happy to be a live. When you are left with a double fracture of the pelvis, a fractured collar bone, a left ankle fracture, a chipped rib, near fatal blood clots and the doctor says you’ll be lucky to walk again you’re pretty much just happy to walk. When you are Ben Hogan, though, you give it 16 months and then win the US Open in a 3 man play-off. The ‘Miracle at Merion’ a fitting tribute to a real fighter.

Concerning Mr. Depp's Closet

Mon, 11 Jun 2012 10:18:57 -0400

When I was younger, (more) stupid, generally inebriated and drawn more toward the fringe than the center, I had an appreciation for the stylistic decisions (I dare say fashion) of one Johnny Depp. I suppose I was intrigued by the bohemian/ pirate overtones coupled with grunge staples, the touch of Old Hollywood and zootsuitery and the way all of the previous stood in opposition to the trendy “this is what my stylist picked out for me” looks popular amongst the chiclet toothed “ready for my closeup” celebrities.

Obviously, I don’t think celebrities ought to be admired, respected or followed the vast majority of the time, but unless you’ve finally purchased that Wyoming homestead and are browsing a manual on canning and preservation by candlelight, rather than the latest headlines, it’s difficult to not at least have an awareness of what’s happening on silver screens and red carpets. Beyond this, I did appreciate, and do continue to appreciate (albeit to a lesser degree) Depp’s work on screen.

From the standpoint of the traditionalist, Depp is off the mark about 90% of the time and routinely breaks the most basic “rules,” such as propriety of attire based on context. However, from a “personal style” (whatever that means) standpoint, Depp is successful to the extent that he seems to wear whatever he pleases whenever he pleases and there are consistent elements (fedoras, colored sunglasses, scarves, pattern mixing, an abundance of accessories, etc).

With respect to Depp’s sartorial inspiration, Keith Richards and Eddie Vedder, both friends of Depp’s, are stylistically similar to Depp. Richards, with more of a gypsy bend and Vedder with more of a classic Seattle grunge orientation. These avenues, gypsy and grunge, ought to be travelled with great care or not at all by the common gent.

It might be said that Depp is a man who dresses according to instinct or feel and that (again, in a traditional sense) his instincts and feelings are entirely wrong. Again, from the standpoint of individual/ personal style, he succeeds admirably, although I believe this to be a small victory.

Depp dresses in the repellant mode, similar to a “man repeller” or celebrity replete with baseball cap, large sunglasses and the particular look of fear, discomfort and avoidance one gets when hoping not to be seen/ recognized. 99% of men don’t have the luxury of doing this and must comport themselves in the “attractive” mode, using clothing and accessories as tools of aspiration, rather than insulation.

If he weren’t an actor or musician, Depp would likely be a candidate for What Not To Wear. Latitude and liberty have been granted to poets since Greek times, to be sure, but Depp, in addition to not conforming to the dominant concepts of men’s style, doesn’t really conform to any fixed “style,” save for perhaps, “Bag Man.”

Depp has the bizarre distinction of being both “The Sexiest Man Alive” (in a popular/ traditional sense..i.e. People Magazine) and one of the worst dressed men alive (again, in a traditional sense). The two have something to do with each other: Depp is uncomfortable with his good looks and consciously downplays them with distracting and unflattering clothes and accessories, which surely bring him an element of comfort and security.

Given all this, one might ask: What are the positive elements of Depp’s fashion? What is adaptable or advisable for the common gent of a bohemian orientation?

Perhaps, not much.

However, I present to you the Johnny Depp Getting Dressed formula for your complete rejection or attempted adaptation/ adoption.

The Depp formula looks something like: shirt + something else (jacket, second shirt, scarf) + >1 ring on each hand + >2 bracelets + fedora/ driving cap/ knit hat + >1 necklace + 1 additional accessory (sunglasses, additional scarf, watch or wallet chain).

Depp wears what he wants to. In an immature way, this is commendable on priority. 10% of his outfits “work” and the rest are largely ridiculous. His appearance is too consistent to not be deliberate and purposeful, which makes it all the more confusing. I’ve attempted to offer a few suggestions as to “why” and “for what purpose.”

I do believe, however, that the 10% of good outfits largely redeem Depp and reinforce the brand. Basically, Depp looks better when he keeps his clothing choices simpler and lets his accessories make a statement. The more he piles on layers (while not removing accessories), the worse he looks. Additionally, he ought to abandon “dressing up” altogether and be aware that red carpet means black tie 99% of the time.

A few of his better efforts, below.

A Gentleman's Agreement: Keep Holy The Sabbath

Wed, 30 May 2012 15:35:01 -0400

Far from arguing from a Jewish/ Judeo-Christian perspective, CBG advocates keeping holy the Sabbath as a means of weekly refocusing on what is of value in a man’s life. Perhaps, this includes God, but it’s just as well if it’s golf or gardening. It’s important to take a day, no matter what, to recalibrate, shirk work and reassess.

I am not the greatest advocate of carrots on sticks or a list of goals with matching timelines. However, it’s important to try and remember exactly what the hell it is one is doing on the planet (at least) once a week. The workweek is an eternal movement from one task to the next with not a lot of time for a big picture view built in. Take some time to think these things over on your sabbath day. If you’re a “life’s purpose,” or “personal mission statement,” type of person, pull out those documents, then.

Pretty simply, there are the things which really matter in life and then there is the bullshit. If you haven’t arrived yet at your own fountain of truth and meaning, then by all means, set out on that quest, or at least make your best guess and proceed. Keeping the sabbath is largely about identifying the bullshit and refraining from engaging in any of the toxic nonsense for a day.

Practically, this might mean brunch with family or friends, but it likely doesn’t mean spending four hours on Facebook catching up the minutia of their lives or having Totally Unnecessary Text Message Conversation #4,357 with members of said classes.

As much as is possible, the Sabbath is a day to remember that work does not define you and to keep work-related activities to a bare minimum: don’t schedule appointments on your Sabbath, let your inbox fill up and don’t open your brief case. Of course, this assumes one A. doesn’t have any fires to put out and B. has taken care of urgent tasks in expectation of the day of rest.

Keep holy the Sabbath!

The Unwelcome Return: Summer Skankery

Mon, 21 May 2012 15:33:00 -0400

I am neither so adept that I can easily search for and find the article I am trying to remember, nor so astute in the powers of recollection as to recall the its author or even the source, but the essential thrust of the piece was that menswear since 2000 has been a regurgitation of the styles of past eras and that there is no “future” for menswear, only reimaginings of the past, whether that be the suits of the 60’s or the worn denim of the 90’s.

While I may not entirely agree with the piece (I fear Stark Trek jumpsuits and digital skin coverings are ahead) I think it’s an interesting point and an assessment of the past decade which is mostly accurate.

Of course, it is my own private hope that we turn back to clock to 1960 at the latest, 1890 at the earliest, in menswear and somewhere between 1920 and 1960 in womenswear. The ~~depressing escalation of allergy symptoms~~ recent warmth and proximity of Memorial Day have left me pondering, amongst other things, how much shorter womens’ (and really, I must say girls) shorts and skirts and tops will get, how much more bra/ cleavage/ fleshbelt I’ll see this year as opposed to last.

All year round, I am terrified by “tights creep” and the way in which the unholy things now apparently qualify as pants, but the summer is a particular horror as the logical trajectory of things seems to be “let’s all walk around in our underwear.”

True, I don’t appreciate men sans shirts unless at the beach or the absurd peacockery of the painted on polo shirt, tank top or wife-beater, but the trend amongst women at present is a bit more disturbing.

I write from a limited and biased perspective, to be sure. In the hipster and BU student den of iniquity of Allston where I live, things are particularly dire. I do, however, try to make allotments for the stupidity of youth (who get younger every year). Perhaps women are dressing more modestly for the summer elsewhere. Perhaps there are sundresses aplenty and nary a bare expanse of breast or belly in some zipcodes.

Indeed, I hope there are.

What would CBG prefer? Well, I am an absolutely repulsive, backward thinking, chauvinist, sexist, puritanical dog on this one. Skirts ought to be (at least top of the) knee length or longer and is much preferred to walking shorts…anything shorter is questionable. I am not in love with tanktops and great bare expanses of back and shoulder, but I’ll give them my stamp of approval within reason. Anything strapless is tasteless. I think blouses and polos are a far better recourse.

Further, to the ladies of the summer of 2012 I’d like to say, no matter who you are, the world is not better off for having seen your naked toes. As such, wear sandals with discretion. Try a hat or a headscarf everyone once in a while. Commit your flip flops and jean shorts to the flames. Do a Google search for summer dress, not short shorts. Realize that 18 is not 13 and late 20’s is not late teens.

When Bruce Springsteen sings about the appeal of “girls in their summer clothes” I like to think he is imagining a flowing sun dress and not and inch of ass cheek visible below shorts which require lubrication to pull on.

The Unreturned Email

Thu, 17 May 2012 19:24:44 -0400

Allowing for the vagaries of the spam filter, the legitimate email which goes unanswered is truly an onerous thing. Simply put, every email which is not a blatant and shameless instance of advertising ought to be responded to. Further, such emails ought to be responded to within a day.

What possible excuse is there for doing otherwise? When one writes to a large organization, one should expect a thoughtful response. When one attempts to contact a particular individual, even if said party is unknown to the sender, one deserves a response, however dismissive.

If one’s volume of correspondence is too large to handle personally, with speed, courtesy and respect, then one must hire help, outsource, or set up a clever autoresponse which is, in the least, a lukewarm shoulder.

In short, if the sender expects a response, one must be given.

Triage and prioritization of the inbox are necessary, to be sure, but there cannot be a folder titled “Will Respond To If I Get Time,” or “Maybe I’ll Answer, Someday.” Surely, in either of these cases, much of the folder could be committed to flames: the reply will never come.

For the man who hates email, who is overburdened by notifications on his Blackberry or his desktop, there is a simple solution…get rid of the damn thing, or learn how to use it properly. Better to not email—impossible as this may sound— at all than to give offense.

Practically speaking, if a man is going to respond and respond appropriately to all emails which are not either officially or unofficially spam, he must set aside times during the day to attend to his inbox. Those who are far smarter than I find the early morning the best time to read and respond to emails.

How much time ought one devote to the task? As much as it takes, simply put.

Though I think he’s more of a circus promoter than a solutions man, Timothy Ferriss, author of The 4 Hour Workweek recommends setting up an autoresponse message to all emails stating that one checks emails once a day and response to all emails first thing in the morning.

Consider your methods. Ponder the best ways to respond to legitimate emails. Whatever the approach, be sure to respond. When one doesn’t respond to an email, a surrogate response is issued. At best, that response is “You sir (or ma’am) and your email are not important enough to prompt a response from me.” This is not a message a gent can ever afford to send or one he ought to ever be comfortable with.

Off with you, sir. To your inbox.

4 Eco-Friendly Neckties by Cameron Bruns of Boston Green Blog

Sun, 13 May 2012 21:06:22 -0400

Dress to impress and show your superior sense of morality at the same time by choosing neckties that are both environmentally sustainable, and support those in need. Here are four options to pull it off:

1. Figs – Figs makes quality ties, bowties, and scarves from high-end materials and is also a “threads-for-threads” company. Like Tom’s shoes and other one-for-one businesses, Figs donates goods for every consumer purchase. They provide school uniforms to children in economically developing countries.

Image courtesy of Ecouterre.com

2. Sonic Cassette Tape Necktie – Who knew that cassette tapes could be recycled into such a dapper textile? These ties are made from 50% recycled materials – and make noise if you rub a tape head over it! Sounds like a new party trick…

3. Jaan J. – Have you ever thought about what silk really is? Silk worms are boiled to death and then the cocoons around them are unraveled into silk strands. If this doesn’t appeal to you, then you’ll definitely be interested in the luxury non-silk vegan ties by Jaan J. (They also do bowties, ascots, and pocket squares).

4. Brave Gentle Man – Another vegan option are ties by Brave Gentle Man, but this company takes it a step further by only using organic, fairly-traded cotton. They don’t just stop at ties either; they do the full suit – including shoes (made of faux-leather of course).

Cameron Bruns is the founder of Boston Green Blog and a contributor to Merida, the premier source for distinctively designed natural rugs with a conscience for sustainability.

Belated Thoughts on Bubba

Fri, 11 May 2012 15:13:19 -0400

If the essence of winning major championships in golf is hitting the right shot at the right moment, then Bubba Watson’s sterling effort at the Masters typified that essence.

Weekend golfers marveled at Watson’s ability to draw the ball 40 yards. While this, in itself, is a notable talent, it is one that most Tour players possess. What is truly spectacular is the ability to hit a 40 yard trap draw blind out of pine straw, through trees with maximum spin on the second playoff hole of a major championship.

Watson’s effort follows the blueprint of great achievement: see the path, then follow it… Conceive a plan, then execute it.

Not many of us could hit the shot that Bubba did. However, we can all assess our situations, make plans and execute. It’s a simple formula for achievement, whether on the tenth hole at Augusta or in the world at large.

Beware The Face You Make

Mon, 30 Apr 2012 11:32:00 -0400

Full disclosure: I am given to the occasional sourpuss or look of stark disgust/ disapproval. It’s not one of my more noble qualities, to be sure. When I see a particularly grotesque display of sluttery or pathetic male comportment, I feel my face transforming as though I’ve just bit into a lemon.

As I said, not one of my more noble qualities.

I don’t delude myself into thinking I will ever really be able to manage the gaze of compassion upon all God’s creatures or totally avoid the disbelieving double take upon seeing white socks with boat shoes, sneakers with khakis or an inch of ass (cheek, or crack).

I am, however, aware of the tendency and have mostly managed to eliminate the look of open mouthed, curled lip horror from my repertoire.

My suggestion is that in the same way as we pay attention to what we say and how we say it (hopefully) and attempt to maintain the appropriate amount of eye contact and the appropriate firmness in our handshakes, we also maintain awareness of what are faces may be saying without our consent.

Certainly, in addition to believing themselves to be stronger, faster, and more generally accomplished in the sack than they really are, most men think they have a better poker face than they do. A turn at the table on guys’ night ought to dispel this myth, but it persists.

As such, I implore you, gentlemen, next time a man passes you on the street with shorts so short that they would make a teenage girl blush and knee socks that would only be acceptable were they being worn by a teenage girl, you refrain from speaking your mind or allowing your expression to belie the same.

Belt Basics

Sat, 28 Apr 2012 17:30:44 -0400

From a certain perspective, the belt is an aberration. Animal hide tied about the waist to hold one’s pants up as a poor substitute for a good pair of braces, some say. Further, one’s trousers will never hang the right way, so long as they are belted and not suspended.

There’s another contingent who, largely wrongly, eschews the belt all together and all occasions to wear one—he of the oversized polo shirt hastily stuffed into the undersized khakis persuasion. Included here is the prudent soul who already has a belt, of sorts, in his sweats or athletic pants.

Between these two poles lie the rest of us, whether we are wearing surcingle or Western, braided or crocodile, we are the many men balancing form and function to hold our pants up.

I could wax poetic about my love for the patterned belt or say my piece about the need for at least one quality exotic in a man’s closet. Unfortunately, however, we’re facing an epidemic of silliness and confusion that merits immediate treatment and rebuke.

Please, keep the following in mind when figuring out what you’re going to use to hold your pants up:

No oversized belt buckles unless directing cattle or winning a boxing title.

Nothing printed, painted, studded, stamped or containing precious gems.

Nothing too thick or too thin.

Nothing too long or too short.

Something that serves its purpose, please.

Something matched to your goddamned shoes.

Nothing too plain or too flashy.