March 21, 1997

Back in the unreal world

By EARL McRAE
Ottawa Sun   "Sorry, sir," said the private club receptionist, "I can't let you in without a tie."
  There it was.
  I was back.
  Back to the unreal world.
  Back to my old column picture.
  Me and a tie.
  A tie?
  I haven't worn a tie in at least a month.
  Who needs a tie?
  What's a tie supposed to prove?
  That I'm rich? Famous? Well-bred? Refined? Educated?
  Some of the richest, best bred, most famous, most educated, and most refined people I've ever known don't wear ties.
  Or own ties.
  Or would be seen dead in ties.
  And, some of the dumbest, cretinous, poorest, social disasters I've ever known wear ties; wearing ties hasn't made them smarter, richer, classier, or nicer.
  "I didn't think I needed one," I told the receptionist behind the desk at the Rideau Club where I'd been invited yesterday afternoon for a pre-arranged Sun business function shortly after I arrived at the train station with the Dawson City Nuggets of whose intelligence and character I have great respect, and none of whom wears a tie if he can possibly avoid it.
  "Yes sir, you need one to get in," the receptionist said and, with that, reached into a drawer behind him containing several different patterned ties for just such social crises created by ignorant, tie-less twits like me, and handed one over to affix around my neck, which I did, but, alas, without any instant, noticeable improvement of my bank account, table manners, or social status.
  I wasn't in Who's Who Of Canada before the tie, nor, I can report, during it, or after it.
  What I can report is that being told I had to wear a tie was a reality jolt if ever there was a reality jolt, that my Great Thrill-Rushing-By-The-Seat-Of-The-Pants Adventure is truly over, and my world from now on will seem dull, sad, depressing, boring, mundane, empty; a world where something as lowly and unimportant as the tie can, in its absence, create great social tremors.
  But, don't worry, I will adjust. I will coast for a little while yet on the vapors of yesterday's tremendous welcome for the Nuggets when a huge throng of ordinary Ottawans, sprinkled with politicians, met them at the train station, voices a-crying, banners a-waving, Klondikers all for day.
  "I'm in favor of abolishing Senators," shouted into the crowd Yukoner and former federal NDP leader Audrey McLaughlin, who rode the train from Toronto with her Nuggets. "And this Sunday the Dawson City Nuggets will abolish the Senators."
  A number of the enemy Senators Alumni were there in their team jerseys, including Brad Marsh.
   Nuggets leader Pat Hogan took the microphone and staring defiantly into the eyes of Brad Marsh, snapped: "I hereby throw down the gauntlet; if you choose to meet our challenge, I dare you to pick it up."
  With that, Hogan flung his thick, warrior gloves to the ground in front of Marsh. The crowd watched anxiously. "Pat Hogan," said Marsh, "has his gloves tied to a string when he plays."
   And he bent down, picked them up, the air was rent with exploding cheers; and on the afternoon of the fourth Sunday on the 23rd day of the third month, the final battle will be joined.