It’s nobody’s fault, but I now realize I have suffered much because my parents did not live long enough for me to “grow into them.”  By that I mean I have suffered the same fate many people have in that it took me most of my life to realize that much of my emotional makeup mirrors that of my parents.  It has been only in the past twenty years or so that I realize much of the way I process all the “goo” of life is exactly the way my parents handled it.  Trouble is, we can’t share all that harmony now because they’re gone.  It would be so much fun and enlightening to simply sit down together and toss the goo back and forth.

The Progressive Insurance Company has been running an ad campaign that mocks the lifestyle and social behavior of our senior population.  It features “Dr. Rick, the ultimate “parental life coach” whose mission it is to redirect the next generation down from behaving like their parents.  Parents just aren’t cool and it is Dr. Rick’s life’s work to stop the inter-generational metamorphosis.  He’ll teach you the follies of not working a cell phone properly, how not to be a line monitor, or avoiding the telling of “dad jokes,” things like that.

Well today, there I was, standing in front of a mirror in a men’s clothing store.  I was gasping for breath as I stared at the image looking back at me.  It was my father.  No Question.  It was him.   “Get me Dr. Rick!” I yelled, “it’s an emergency.”  Okay, here’s the back story.

Sometime in his 50’s, or thereabouts, my father began wearing suspenders.  I don’t recall ever discussing this new fashion statement he had adopted and, in fact, I don’t remember giving it much thought at all…until now.  By this time in his life, my father’s devout devotion to the beverage of beer had exploited his genetic leanings towards a full girth.  In other words, Dad had a good beer gut, contrarily complemented by skinny legs and a disappearing butt.  How odd, I thought as I uncomfortably scanned the image in the mirror whose silhouette now mimicked my father’s despite the fact that my consumption of beer is limited to a social bottle a year, if that.  I will never again trust a gene unless it has a brand name sewn into its rear pocket.   

Here’s the trouble with having a big waistline with no supporting structure under it.  Pants are made to match the waist so that they are positioned at the proper height when placed on the body.  However, once on, even with a belt, they seek a lower altitude and easily descend below the bulge to where it does not take long before they drop totally all the way to the floor. No Kidding.  So, what to do?  Suspenders!!

Suspenders, those elastic and leathery rubber bands usually reserved for a dark corner rack are the perfect solution.  Sure, you wore them with the tux you rented for the prom and maybe still another for your wedding, but after that—never!  Too many men are in structural denial as they constantly hike their pants up to the proper elevation only to be further frustrated with the dreaded entanglement of the clothing item that lies beneath. Our behavior defies both logic and gravity.  And that is why my father and many of his peers were happy to make suspenders a permanent part of their wardrobe,…and so shall I, Dr. Rick be damned. 

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