99 YEARS OLD AND STILL WEARS HIS TIES WITH PRIDE...

WALKING purposefully towards the railway station yesterday morning in order to catch a train to take me to work, I was about to overtake a couple of people sauntering in the same direction. They were a lady of mature years and a young gentleman who was wearing a T-shirt. As I approached, I heard the lady say: “Fewer and fewer people these days are wearing ties.”

The remark could not possibly have been directed at my own tielessness as I was still behind the pair so she could not have noticed my sartorial inadequacy but I felt that I ought to comment on her observation, particularly as I was about to overtake, when she would surely notice that I was not wearing a tie. So I paused alongside the pair and explained that my tie was in my pocket and I fully intended to put it on later.

She seemed pleased that I had joined the conversation, and I like to think that I may even have mollified her opinion of the tieless majority by pointing out that some of us have ties in our pockets which we intend to put on later. So she smiled and said, “But do you not agree that fewer and fewer people are wearing ties?”

“Indeed I do,” I said, “and I share your regret at that deplorable fact. In my own purely temporary case, I hold the sultry weather to blame. Were it not so hot and humid, I would surely have tied my neckgear already, for it is a particularly splendid tie of which I am very fond.”

So saying, I extracted from my pocket the aforementioned neckgear, which is a green tie adorned with many fish of which only one has been filleted. “It was a present several years ago from my elder offspring Junior and I am very fond of it,” I said. “As indeed I am of Junior himself.”

“Does the design on the tie signify anything?” the lady asked.

“Nothing whatsoever,” I replied. “A tie does not have to signify anything. Merely being a tie is significant enough, in my opinion. You might say that when I put it on, it will signify that I am one of the fewer and fewer people who wear ties these days.”

She nodded approvingly, so wishing to educate her further on the subject, I asked: “Do you know who said to whom, ‘There is no time, sir, at which ties do not matter’?”

“I must admit I don’t know who said that,” she replied with interest.

“It was Jeeves to Bertie Wooster,” I enlightened her, and I concur with that view most wholeheartedly. I must, however, confess that there is another reason besides the weather for my not wearing a tie at the moment.” “And what is that?” she asked. “I have at home,” I explained, “that excellent monograph by Fink and Mao entitled The 85 Ways To Tie A Tie and by the time I had to leave, I had not yet decided which to use. But this conversation has helped me reach a decision, for which I must thank you.”

So saying, I flung the tie around my neck, executed a perfect Plattsburgh knot, smiled at the lady, told the young gentleman to make sure he wore a shirt and tie next time and strode off to catch my train.