The GM's New Suit

Went back to visit my sharathon friends this week. Non-commercial station, medium market. High on need, low on commitment. Unpaid bills stacked to the ceiling with no means to pay in sight. Frantically paddling muddy sand in the middle of a donor drought.

And all the GM wanted to talk about was his new custom suit. Seems that he met an old school tailor who offered to make him a custom suit at a price he couldn't refuse.

While I was sitting there talking to my GM friend, the tailor brought his assistant into the office for a "pre-fitting." He said that he had to make some "final adjustments" and wanted to see how it was fitting at this point.

So my friend slipped out, slipped the suit ON and strolled back in with the confidence of a fashion model. Except that it was misplaced bravado. This was the fashion show from Techno Bizarre! The arms of the coat were different lengths, the seams had gaps and the pants puckered in all the wrong places. In short, my 10-year-old son could do as well, if not better. In his sleep.

I stayed quiet to see what everyone else would say. You know how it's better to be quiet and THOUGHT a fool than to speak and remove all doubt? Well, there was a lot less doubt on my part after I heard everyone speak. The first word that came out of the tailor's mouth was "exquisite!" Not exactly the first word on the tip of MY tongue at that moment.

And then the superlatives began to flow like a New York City rain pours over a clogged downspout. There wasn't enough airspace for them all to coexist, so they tumbled out

and over one another, spilling and making a mess. "AMAZING!" "Oh my goodness, how handsome!" "I have never seen a more beautiful suit!" "Better than I could have ever expected or hoped for!" "The most beautiful suit of clothes I have EVER seen!"

And I was still stuck on that one word that I just couldn't get past. It's a four-letter description that stands for something that's just not pleasant and should be disposed of. A word that when spoken by linguists of ANY nationality, immediately describes their current thoughts on the subject. Sometimes you regret saying it, but sometimes its just the ONLY word that fits.

YECH! Yech, yech, yech! What?!? What WERE you thinking?

The suit was absolutely atrocious. Or as my 7-year-old little princess would say, "That's yecky, Daddy!" It looked like he had gotten a double-knit suit from the 70's, cut it up

and then stitched together a Franken-suit. Pockets that didn't line up, buttonholes that were smaller than the buttons and lapels that were different shapes AND sizes.

Oh yes, this was something they should make a movie about alright. Or at least a cheesy episode of reality TV. I found myself looking around for Ashton Kutcher, thinking my friend might actually be in the middle of a "punking." But that would have been too easy and would have had a happy ending. And I would have probably been in on the joke.

Nope, this was just the case of an ugly, ill-fitting suit of clothes that no self-respecting scarecrow would be caught waving his arms in. And my GM friend was prancing around like a frat boy in the green room for "Next Top Boy Band Supermodel."

Apparently he didn't have a clue that his new clothes were a disaster. But how could he with the effusive compliments that were being showered upon him. I could see it in the eyes of EVERYBODY in the room. Kind of like hearing one of those familiar sounds when you're in third grade and then trying not to laugh. Your face may stay straight but the eyes betray you. Everybody in the room was having a hard time stomaching the new suit of clothes. But no one would say what he or she was really thinking.

Why is that? Would it be that horrible to be the only one in the room with a different

opinion than "the crowd"? Is the peer pressure REALLY that strong? Are original thoughts actually ostracized that directly?

Bring on the size 23 floppy red shoes and the inverted Mohawk. Line up the buckets and secure the ping-pong balls. Yep, I'm talking to you, Bozo. If you're going to dress like that, then we're going to play the "Grand Prize Game."

Is ANYBODY going to tell this poor guy that he looks like a deranged clown prince in that new suit? I've got a feeling that it's going to be left up to his visiting friend. Yep. That would be me. This might be another one of those short visits. Hopefully, it won't be the last. They aren't still beheading folks for telling the truth in love, are they?

Bro, we have to talk.

Billy