Sunday, a miracle happened. I actually convinced Tara that our yard would be better off with a few flamingos.
Not real ones, mind you (though, if they could survive the harsh South Dakota winters, I’d totally be down). As you might recall, I recently suggested that we add plastic pink flamingos to our landscaping, an idea that she quickly shot down.
I also learned that, blog title notwithstanding, not all flamingos are pink. Talk about a revelation.
In any case, we made a trip to At Home Sunday evening. Tara was on the lookout for garden pots. I thought I was just along for the ride, until I spotted the flamingo decor.
“Ooh!” I proclaimed excitedly. “Can I get some flamingos for the garden?”
“It’s your money,” my wife replied, which is about as close to a ringing endorsement as I could hope to get.
$27 later, I emerged from At Home with the following flamingo paraphernalia.
Lest you think my flamingo obsession is limited to the garden, guess again. A weekend trip to Kohl’s netted me the following score:
In case you can’t discern the pattern on my shirt, here’s a close-up:
In fact, I wore that shirt to work on Monday.
Guys. I don’t know exactly when and where this obsession took root, but I’m just going to run with it. Flamingos are cool. I suspect it may date all the way back to the 1980s. I was a huge fan of Miami Vice, and the opening credits feature…you guessed it…flamingos. In fact, I remember fondly watching the show in my room (nobody else in the family was into it) right here in South Dakota as a teenager. Proof that life comes full circle, I suppose.
And though I’m loathe to admit this, I thought Sonny Crockett was so cool, I bought a pair of white pants and a pastel shirt and actually wore those to school. Despite this fashion faux pas, I still managed to land a girlfriend, so I suppose the ol’ Mark charm was enough to overcome my poor clothing choices.
I wish I had a photo of me dressed in this outfit, but alas, I have never been able to find one. That’s probably a good thing, come to think of it.
And yet here I am, umpteen years later, going out in public wearing yet another questionable fashion item. They say those who do not learn from the past are doomed to repeat it. Apparently I didn’t get the memo (or worse yet, I’m choosing to ignore it).
Or maybe I’m just at the stage in my life where I have zero fucks to give.
Have you ever made any regrettable fashion choices? Are you obsessed with fowl? Are there any TV shows from your youth you aren’t afraid to admit you loved?
Inquiring minds want to know…