Goat archives vol. three: photo phantasmagoria

For those who visit this blog regularly, that I refer to my Splendid King as "the Goat" is no surprise, nor is it unusual for me to have a bit of fun at the Goat's expense. But there are things you do not know, people.

The Goat has come a long way in these nearly seventeen years of marriage. And the best way to demonstrate that of course, is in pictures.


In the year of our Lord, 1976, two years after his own high school graduation, my Dearly Beloved attended prom, making him one of those older guys that no one knew. It was a double date affair. He and "a buddy of a guy that I worked with" escorted the ladies in a "souped-up Cutlass."

I like the ruffles on the shirt cuffs.

"I can do pink."

Sure you can, Starsky.


This strikes me as a casual outfit worn either before or after a night out at the famed Utopia dance club. Doesn't he look like one of Tony Manero's gang from Saturday Night Fever?

*** Stayin' alive, stayin' alive. Just stayin' alive! ***



Here we find the Goat relaxing on his vehicle: either the "Plymouth Fury or the Chrysler Newport;" further determination unavailable as "those were some lost years."

Wonder if he found what he was looking for.


This photo is notable as it was taken before the festivities began. My Dearly Beloved was on his way to perform the duties of Best Man ("Yeah, I think I was the Best Man. Yeah.") at what "must have been Charlie's" wedding.

Is it just me, or are his posing techniques uncanny?


This picture was shoved between the pages of the all-Goat album that the rest of today's pix came from. I don't know why. That's me at about the same age as the Goat was in the last photo. I, too, was at a friend's wedding.

Maybe it's here for contrast. Dunno.

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Goat archives vol. two: gentlemen's accessories

In the above photo, my husband of 16 years is donning a wide leather watch band that he recently unearthed from a box in the attic that, according to the photo and text on the lid, originally housed a set of Craftsmen screwdrivers.

"I threw everything in here when I changed dressers."

My brain, perhaps in denial, did not immediately recognize the item. With knitted brow, I took it from his hand and blinked at the curious leather strap and tarnished buckle. When I realized what it was moments later, I fell into a gut-wrenching fit of laughter. As I was dabbing at the resulting tears, the Goat explained to me that he often wore the wristband with his tan bell bottoms and a tight print Qiana disco shirt when he went to the bar at the local Holiday Inn with his associates for an evening out.

"So Starsky," I said, "Get laid alot?"

"No."

He then produced an Speidel I.D. bracelet engraved with ERIC in a triple-line engravers font. The item was slightly corroded despite Speidel's proud claim of RHODIUM ELECTROPLATE on the interior of the clasp.

"What was the purpose of this?" I said. "Have trouble remembering your name?"

"You were supposed to give it to your sweetie," he said.

"Seeing as you still have it at the ripe age of 52," I said, "I guess you didn't do so well in that department."

"I don't know about that," he said. "After all, who's got it right now?"

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Goat archives vol. one: bathroom vanity

My Dearly Beloved (aka the Goat) cleaned out his bathroom vanity. Despite what your sensibilities tell you, all of the following photographs were taken on January first in the year of our Lord, two thousand nine.

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Aromatic Brut Soap on a Rope
Still in it's attractive display case.


ElectriSchick Fantasy
State-of-the-art in men's grooming, circa 1977.


Goat Cologne Fabulon
Fortunately, when I took these from the boxes in order to photograph them, it seemed they'd never been opened before. Nonetheless, I cannot resist taking this opportunity to say, "All my men wear English Leather ... or they wear nothing at all."
Does anyone know what the "Saxon Reaction" is?



High Stylin' Blow
This device pioneered the breakthrough technology that brought new heights to men's hair.


Inside the Thinking Man's Mind
What he reads when you're not watching.

* * *
People, this is what real marriage looks like.

The most terrifying thing about all of this is that the Goat saved every item except the Max for Men hair dryer (it no longer worked) and is threatening to use these items one day. Based on the odor that emanated from the Brut soap on a rope when we opened the clear green plastic case (we did not lather it up, but the stench filled the room nonetheless), I told him that if he ever employs it I will divorce him.

As a public service, I urge all of you to forward this post to every woman you know.