The Suit

Back in my radio days, our station had the best DJ service around. We play all types of events: school dances, class reunions, company parties, birthday parties, and anniversaries. The most common gigs we played were wedding receptions.​

Before the wedding, I always met with the couple to discuss what songs they wanted played for special dances, such as the bride and groom, father and bride, and groom and his mother's dance, and maybe a few requests they would like played throughout the evening.

Occasionally, a bride would bring in a list of songs they wanted played and in what order. I would politely tell them I (or the DJ working the dance) would pick the music.

Some brides were shocked, "So you won't play my music list?"

"I'll play your crowd, but I won't follow a list," I'd answer. We read your guests' and pick music to keep them dancing to ensure a good time." Some brides were adamant that we follow their list: "You'll need to find a different DJ service; that's not how we work." And we'd walk away from their business.

I always left brides with one bit of advice: "No matter how hard you plan to make everything perfect for your wedding, some things will go wrong; count on it, and don't worry about it; just move on.

"If there is a problem with the music, let me handle it. If a guest has too much to drink, let the venue handle it. If your brother is being a jerk, let your dad handle it. Your mom will take care of him if he's really being a jerk. Your job is to get married and have a good time. Period."

I've done hundreds and hundreds of wedding receptions and seen weddings where the florist lost the bridal bouquet. I've seen five-tier wedding cakes get knocked to the floor during setup. I've seen it all, and it always worked out fine.       

Our daughter's wedding was this last weekend. I would get ahead of the game and break my usual habit of being late and behind schedule.

Well before the wedding, Melissa ordered a new navy-blue necktie to match her dress. Encouraged by my wife, I took my suit from the closet five weeks before the wedding and tried it on to make sure it fit well and did not need to be altered.

The suit fit fine, which was good. However, it also meant I didn't lose the fifteen pounds I wanted to before Annie's big day. I took my suit to the dry cleaner in Duluth two weeks before the wedding. Before driving to Duluth, I loaded my Stihl chain saw into the van.

I have two chain saws, which are Stihl brand. Both have served me well.  My "little" chainsaw is about twenty years old and has been a real workhorse, however, it needed a new clutch. With my suit hanging and the chainsaw on the back floor, I called my dog. "Nova, do you want to go with me?" She's always up for a car ride. We hopped in the van and drove to Duluth.

I first dropped the chain saw off at the repair shop, then ran several errands in Duluth and Superior. Finally, I took my suit to the cleaners arriving just a few minutes before closing.

The clerk was happy to accept my suit. "A three-piece suit will be $24 to clean. What day do you need to pick it up," she asked.

"I'm working out of town for the weekend and won't be back until Tuesday," I said.

"No problem," the clerk said. "We'll have it ready for you to pick up next Tuesday."

I explained, "I'll be busy when I get home; then, with Memorial Day weekend, I may not be able to pick it up until a week from Tuesday. Is that okay?"

"We'll have it ready this Tuesday," she promised. "You can come get it any time after that."

I walked back to my van with a spirited step. I took my long "to-do list" from my pocket and drew a line through 'suit to cleaners.' "How about that, Nova Mae? Fifteen errands on the list, and they're all done." It was a fun ride home, knowing I was totally on schedule for once in my life.

The following week, I was busy getting ready for the wedding. Nova Mae and our cat Edgar Allan would be traveling with us, so we planned to take the Scamp to the wedding and camp rather than staying in the motel - it's just easier with pets. I made sure the Scamp was ready to travel.

The freshwater tank was filled, the LP gas tanks were full, the battery was fully charged, the refrigerator was on and cold, all the bedding was washed, and the bed was made. I needed to replace a tail light cover, which I had on hand. (A new lens from Bullyan RV was one of my 15 errands in Duluth.) Finally, I inspected the tires and checked the air pressure. The Scamp was road-trip worthy. All we had to do was throw in the groceries and our bags. With the Scamp ready, I could relax and enjoy the weekend with my wife.

On Memorial Day, I planted two Autumn Blaze Maple Trees in the yard. The gnats were horrid! Melissa brought me my safari hat with mosquito netting attached. I've never used it before, and boy, was I impressed.

Gnats swarmed my head and face while I worked, often landing on the netting. I laughed in their little gnat faces as I sang, "I hear you knocking, but you cannot come in, da, dah, da dah…. Although the gnats couldn't get to my face, I had my sleeves rolled up to work, and they chewed up my forearms pretty badly!

Once the maple trees were planted and staked, my thoughts turned to other steaks, and I fired up the Weber grill. Despite my itchy arms, Memorial Day was great. Still, the days following would be busy getting everything else packed to go to Sioux City, Iowa, for the wedding.

Tuesday morning, Nova Mae and I returned to Duluth with twelve items on a fresh "to-do" list; first, we picked up the chainsaw.

"Your chain saw is pretty old," the clerk told me. It will cost way more to repair than it's worth." I was sad to hear this, but the saw had served me well. I planned to use it until she died. "It's $25 for the diagnosis," the clerk said. Fair enough. I paid the man and waited. "Did you need anything else, sir?"

"I need my chainsaw," I answered. The man went to the backroom and returned with a box. I was stunned, to say the least, looking in a box at my disassembled chainsaw. "You didn't put it back together?" The man said it wasn't worth fixing and that reassembling it would cost another $100. "I brought you a running chain saw, and you hand me a box of parts? That's pretty crappy!" I took my dissected chain saw to the van. I was not happy, but I had a lot to do today. I moved on to item two: picking up my suit from the cleaners.

The clerk asked my name and went to the backroom to get my suit. She returned, asking, "Do you have the claim ticket?" I never keep those claim tags, but this time, I knew it was in the cup holder in my van. I retrieved the ticket, and she disappeared into the back room, returning to the counter without a garment. "I can't seem to find it," she said. "What color was the suit?" I told her it was a gray, three-piece suit. She went to look again, coming back to the counter empty-handed. "I'm sorry, sir, I can't find your suit."

"YOU LOST MY SUIT?" I was quite alarmed. "My daughter is getting married Saturday, and I need my suit!"

"We didn't lose it, sir. It's here somewhere; I just can't find it," the clerk said. I'll call the owner; she can find anything." I waited while she made the call. “The owner said she’ll come in to find it tomorrow.

"It's a hundred-forty miles round trip drive from my house," I said. "Can she come in and find it today?" 
The clerk made another call, "The owner said she won't be here until tomorrow. She comes in at 7:30 a.m." Here concern was touching. I had a lot of things I wanted to say, but there was no sense in shooting the messenger. "Can I keep the claim tag?" the clerk asked.

"No, I'll be taking the claim tag with me," I answered, letting her take a copy before leaving.

"Where's your suit," Nova asked when I returned to the van.

"They lost my dang suit," I told Nova. "I should be grateful for getting my chain saw back in pieces, at least they could find it! I hope this isn't a sign of how our next ten stops will go!"

I arrived at the drycleaners Wednesday morning at 8:00, giving her time to find my suit. "I'm very sorry, I haven't been able to locate your suit yet," the owner said. "I'm calling in another worker to help look.
We will find your suit." I had my doubts.

"And if you don't," I asked. "Then what?"

"It has to be here someplace, suits don’t just vanish," she said. We will find your suit." Unconfident, I left to run other errands, returning to the drycleaners three hours later.

"We still haven't found it," the owner said. "But we figured out whose garments were on the rack beside your suit. We're hoping your suit was accidentally given to him when he picked up his suit. I have a call into him, but he works until 5."

"And what if he doesn't have my suit. Then What?"

"If you have to buy another suit, I will pay for it," the owner said.

"I am leaving at 10:00 tomorrow morning," I explained. "How do you suppose I am going to find another suit that happens to be just the right shade of gray and have it altered before the end of the day?"

She reemphasized, "We WILL find your suit!" Her words were not very reassuring, and I felt sick as I drove away. In the end, they did not find my suit, so I started shopping like a crazed shopaholic.

The Men's Warehouse and Kohls had nothing even close to my size. I found a suit at JC Penny, but where would I get it altered? "Are you finding everything okay," Marg, the sales lady, asked. I explained what was going on. Marg took the jacket I was holding, "Try this on for me." Melissa wasn't with me, and I was willing to accept any help I could get. "That jacket's pretty tight across the back," she said. "Did you look at the suits on the rack over here? The sizes are more generous in this line."

Thank goodness for Marj. She helped me find a much better-fitting suit. The britches were a bit snug, causing the pockets to pucker, but the next size bigger was baggy at the hips and made me look like I was wearing a horse jockey's pants.

I took the suit home and tried it on for Melissa. "You'll blow the seat out of those pants if you sit down," she assessed. I didn't think they were that tight, but still, it was time to call for emergency services. I dialed the phone.

"Hello, Aunt Di? Can I come over with a pair of dress pants that need to be altered before tomorrow morning?" Aunt Di is an excellent seamstress! Soon I was in her sewing room.

Di was tearing out stitches until the whole back side of the trousers were split apart! "I sure hope she knows what she is doing," I said to myself.

Di pushed pins here and there, marked the fabric, took measurements, moved the pins, and did things I didn't understand. Then she ran the pants through her sewing machine. "Try these on," she said. I put the pants on. "Now turn around." I did. "Hmm. They're still a little tight," Di said. "Take them back off."

I thought the pants fit much better, but what do I know. I removed my pants and handed them to Di.
Di tore the stitches out again, added more pins, and finally put in new stitches. "Try them on now," she said. They felt very comfortable. "They look a lot better," she said. "Okay, take them off." Aunt Di pressed the pants with an iron and had me try them on again. "Turn around," she said. "Okay, you're good to go." By 10 p.m., I was on my way home with a well-fitting suit. Amazing!

I never mentioned the drycleaners losing my suit to Annie; she would have just worried about it. Thanks to Aunt Di and her magic sewing machine, my fears of walking Annie down the aisle in a Minnesota Tuxedo (flannel pajama pants, a flannel shirt, and snowmobile boots) were put to rest! We were ready to travel to Sioux City, Iowa.

The suit debacle put me behind on tasks left to do. Still, we were able to get on the road by noon, only two hours later than planned.

We were five hours into the trip on Highway 169 just north of Mankato. The trip was going great, then BANG! Whap, whap, whap, whap, whap… Darn it! We blew out a tire on the Scamp!

The tire tread was coming apart, slapping a hole in the floor and wheel well. In my side mirror, I could see white debris flying from the Scamp, and I was worried it was fiberglass from the side of the trailer. Fortunately, that was not the case.

The tire tread was shredding the Styrofoam insulation around the water heater inside the cabinet, which was not good. Fortunately, I stopped the trailer safely on the shoulder.

While changing the tire, I was swarmed by mosquitos. I wore my safari hat with netting. My arms had just started to heal from the gnat bites, but the mosquitos chewed up my arms again. My shirt must have come untucked from my britches because I had one big welt right on the…well, never mind. Let's say it was in a spot which made it hard to sit still while driving.

We didn't make it all the way to Sioux City as planned. We stopped at Worthington, Minnesota's visitor's center, and rest area, just north of the Iowa line. We slept quite well in the Scamp, but not before I covered the gaping hole in the floor and wheel well with duct tape to keep the skeeters out!
I should have been angry about everything that went wrong. But I have come to learn something important over the years. When I am having a self-pity party and feeling sorry for myself, it makes it impossible for me to count my blessings. My blessing always out-weigh the bad.

Sure, the cleaners lost my suit, but I found another suit, and I am blessed to have Aunt Di, who lives close by, to alter the new suit. Yeah, the tire blew out and damaged the trailer floor, but I had a good spare tire and duct tape to cover the hole, keeping the bugs out while we slept. Yes, there were setbacks on my trip to Duluth, but 13 of the 15 tasks were completed without issues, in one day, and that's a lot!

It was time to take my own advice, the advice I gave to brides, including my daughter: no matter how hard you plan to make everything perfect some things will go wrong; count on it, and don't worry about it, just move on.

It rained heavily in Sioux City on Friday night, so we had to have the rehearsal inside. On Saturday, the sun shined, and the day was a gorgeous. I walked my daughter Annie down the aisle in a nice-fitting new suit. She looked stunning, and she and Zack had a beautiful wedding at Country Celebrations, an excellent wedding venue.

The DJ was great; I had a chance to visit with him while setting up. "I won't play a reception where they want me to follow a specific list of songs," he said. I smiled. Instead, he played the crowd well, and everyone had a fantastic time.

As for my deceased chainsaw, I paid two hundred bucks for it over twenty years ago. That's only ten dollars a year, and the saw served me very well. “Why do I need two chainsaws anyway?” But If I do replace my little chainsaw, you can bet your bottom dollar it will be another Stihl.