Today I and my steady girl Joy attended a memorial service for Harvey Rhodes, father of my classmate Charlie. It was held at Chapel of the Chimes, a Glendale AZ institution for many years.
I never met Mr. Rhodes that I can remember, but I’d say from what I saw and heard at the service that Charlie has in him many of the qualities that made his father a fine man. I was glad to learn more about Harvey, and a bit more about Glendale, by virtue of my attendance.
Perhaps incidental to this, I decided to dress up a bit for the occasion, and donned the same shirt and tie I’d worn at Dick Wilkinson’s service last month. Then as now I walked from my apartment to the service, and then as now–and now in sharper focus, informed by my previous experience–I found that I am treated differently–with more respect–when I am better dressed.
My usual garb might be described as Thrift-Store Yesteryear. I am comfortable in a polo shirt or t-shirt and jeans or shorts, and I skirt the edge of “business casual” at work. When I suit up I don’t exactly feel like an imposter–more like a partygoer at a masquerade.
But I do like the person people think I might be when I dress up–and my behavior notches up as well.
Perhaps incidental to this, while I was rummaging in my closet for what to wear, I found a pair of pants with a 36-inch waist that I bought when they were a little too small for me; then my weight ballooned and they were un-put-onable. How about now . . . is it remotely possible?
It is. They won’t really fit for another 10 pounds or so–the muffin-toppage is woefully laughable–but I am able to put them on, and I think by New Year’s Day they will fit comfortably. And I will be more comfortable in my skin, though it will be a little looser. “Relaxed fit,” you might say. 🙂
Rest In Peace, Harvey H. Rhodes.