David Spates "Therefore I Am" Published Dec. 10, 2002

Blame the lounging Turks
for that noose you wear

Every guy has had one strapped to his neck in his life. You didn't really want it, but there it was nonetheless. It's uncomfortable and restrictive, and if you're not careful you could kill yourself with it. You wish it would just go away, but you fear that it's a necessary evil. People have come to expect seeing it, hanging around with nothing significant to do apart from looking nice. The funny thing is that most people don't notice them unless they're (A) really, really good-looking; (B) really, really bad-looking; or (C) not there when everyone in the room knows they darn well should be there.

I'm talking, of course, about a spouse.

No, no, no. I'm just kidding. Kidding, Dear, kidding. I was momentarily possessed by the spirit of Norm Peterson.

I'm talking about neckties, the bane of male existence. I've made great efforts in my life to avoid necktie exposure as much as possible, and yet I still periodically find that annoying piece of cloth dangling from my neck. No man is totally immune to neckties. They find their way. You can run, but you can't hide. There are many social and professional situations in which neckties are mandatory. There are even restaurants in which you cannot dine unless you have a tie on. How tasty can food be, anyway? I suspect that those restaurants actually have substandard food and that the prerequisite necktie is a way to distract the diner from the inferior chow.

Who do we guys have to blame for this textile abomination? Pin it on the Ottomon Empire. If those pansy Turks, who apparently had quite an affinity for putting their feet up, hadn't lost a big battle to a Croatian regiment, none of us would be accidentally dipping our ties in our lentil soup. I looked it up, and it turns out that those Turk-killing Croatians, who were part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, visited Paris, where they were presented as glorious heroes to King Louis XIV.

According to Alan Flusser's account published at Neckties.com (if you can't trust Neckties.com, who can you trust?), "It so happened that the officers of this regiment were wearing brightly colored handkerchiefs fashioned of silk around their necks. These neck cloths, which probably descended from the Roman fascalia worn by orators to warm the vocal chords, struck the fancy of the king, and he soon made them an insignia of royalty as he created a regiment of Royal Cravattes. The word 'cravat,' incidentally, is derived from the word 'Croat.'"

Curse those loafing Turks. If they had practiced their battle skills a little more and lounged around with their feet up a little less, we men would be a lot better off.

The rest was history. The king liked the neckwear, and it spread throughout the world. That's quite a legacy Lou made for himself, eh?

I fight the necktie war by not wearing one unless absolutely necessary. Other men find other means to express their objections. Example? I give you the clip-on. Ah, the clip-on -- men who wear one are essentially saying, "OK, fine, I'm wearing a tie, but it's not a REAL tie. I put no effort into this whatsoever. Maybe I know how to tie a tie, maybe I don't. As far as I'm concerned, this satisfies my necktie requirement, so just leave me alone. I know it's ugly. I know it's obvious. Just leave me alone."

I didn't realize they still make clip-on ties for grown men. I knew they made them for little boys. Parents don't want what is essentially a self-tightening noose around a 5-year-old's neck, so little boys wear clip-ons. No one minds. A little boy wearing a sport coat is a little odd-looking anyway, so the presence of a clip-on isn't that big a deal. A grown man wearing a clip-on is a different story. I recently saw full-sized clip-on ties for sale. They were cheap, they were ugly, and they wouldn't fool Ray Charles. Even Brother Ray can spot a clip-on. Nevertheless, there they hung in the men's department, right next to the belts, suspenders and Isotoner gloves. Someone would buy them, and the store would stock more. Fascinating, isn't it? A guy walks into a store and says to himself, "Well, I need a tie. Hey! A clip-on. That will save me at least 30 seconds in the morning, and maybe no one will notice."

But we do. We notice. We all notice.

Something tells me King Louis wouldn't have been quite as impressed if the Croatians had marched into Paris wearing clip-ons.

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David Spates is a Knoxville resident and Crossville Chronicle contributor whose column is published each Tuesday. He can be reached at davespates@chartertn.net.