Mrs. Franzos: Brown Bagging It

Monday, August 10, 2015

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

I've been spinning around in the eye of a tornado for so long, I've completely lost track of time. Houses, plot points in my novel, contractors, movers, realtors, carpet-paint-countertop-flooring samples were whirling all around me. But here I am, spat out into the sultry month of August. I feel like Dorothy and Rip Van Winkle rolled into one. For the first time in months, my mind is quiet (as my mind gets) and I'm noticing things again. That's-what-she-said-opportunities aren't drifting past me like giant, unconsummated bull's eyes. I can smell the sweet scent of cut grass. The sparrows are chirping. Cicadas are buzzing so loud you can't breathe. My, isn't the sky so very, deeply blue today?

Mr. Franzos and I have done it. We sold those two houses. Now we only have one. We're moved in, it's not done, we're living out of boxes, there's construction dust in our bed sheets - yada yada yada - we haven't slept this well in months. High Fives all around.

But now, how do we cram the joys of summer into one month? Ah, heck, why not into one evening? We have some celebrating to do, but...shoot. Where are those wine glasses? I'll tell you where they are...in the last box we open.

Here's what we're going to do. It'll be fun. Pennsylvania is an open container law state...so let's brown bag it and try out a romper. Bad decisions make for good stories, no?

graphic credit: Jenn Cotton

(BTW. Here's a handy graphic, from the Grubstreet.com on-line article, Sloshed: How to Drink in Public, the Right Way by Matthew Latkiewicz. Read it here. It's fantastic.)

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

I was inspired this week by drink. Which, is what I want to do during a home remodel. Though honestly, the home remodel is not so bad, it's dealing with Comcast that drives me to the bottle.

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

"That's the problem with drinking, I thought, as I poured myself a drink. If something bad happens you drink in an attempt to forget; if something good happens you drink in order to celebrate; and if nothing happens you drink to make something happen." - Charles Bukowski, Women.

But seriously, nothing really drives me to drink. I drink because I do. I'm a writer. I observe, I experience, I drink, I make mistakes, I watch other people make mistakes and I write about it. Perfection is boring. There's no story in perfection or ideals, except for the pursuit of them. That's why Horatio Alger's rags-to-riches stories are so charming. Underdogs are king.

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

Speaking of underdogs... Let's talk about the humble romper. I'll start. The word romper (and, while we're at it, fashionista,) sounds like fingernails on the chalkboard to me. But who am I to judge? I hang out on park benches...but one more thing, from the drunk wordsmith and we'll move on...the word, romper, always makes me think of Austin Powers on that round bed, trying to get Liz Hurley in the sack for some reason. idk.

But back to underdogs...The romper climbed high this summer, right up from it's humble Daytona origins. I remember back when it was just a elasticized terry cloth thing with white tie straps that always seemed to get stained by cherry popsicles. When the kool-aid stains exceeded neighborhood propriety and the elastic waist rotted out, it was destined to live out the rest of its days, washing the family econoline camper. But no, this summer, the romper rose up from its usual, weekend swap meets at the Rose Bowl and sauntered straight down the runway into dry-clean only fabrics and swanky, air-conditioned department stores on Madison Avenue. This is the American dream. The romper made it. Let us all learn from the romper.

photo credit: Joshua Franzos

check out my mom jean butt. photo credit: Joshua Franzos

I was also inspired this week by these crazy shoes, which to me, look like brown liquor bags...and on that note, here's maybe the worst decision yet: lose the romper, add a form-fitting dress and you can actually brown-bag it to work. Totally legal, totally HR tolerated.