As close to public office as I'll ever get

Now that we've completed a ball-busting, pound-me-in-the-ass month at the office, rather than catch up with other assignments, I'm posting a photo of my fabulous home office décor.

















As you can see, it is resplendent in its senatorial opulence. Whenever I enter the room I get the title music from "My Fellow Americans" in my head, but not "Hail to the Chief," since I've given up on approximating the Oval Office like I attempted at my parents' house. Such a project would have to wait until I win the lottery and build a custom-designed house with an exact replica of the Oval Office, which would of course be decorated using the Clinton scheme, given my love affair with the 1990s. The heavy damask curtains and ornate mirror give it a slightly Victorian overtone, which is nice given my Steampunk leanings. I really could use some crown molding, though. Note the eagle engravings in their gold Dollar Tree frames mentioned in an earlier post. My credential of ministry from the Universal Life Church is also framed and on display on the bookcase. And yes, that is an early 1980s vintage Trapper Keeper you see in the mirror. An old friend of mine will likely recognize the Uncle Scrooge figurine on the desk; every senatorial office needs a touch of whimsy. Find a photo of FDR's desk littered with kitschy schlock and you'll see what I'm talking about. That awesome brass double inkwell was obtained for free when a co-worker was giving away a bunch of stuff from her house. It's hard to tell in the picture, but that is a 48-star U.S. flag (not Victorian, I'm afraid, but I always liked the nice 6x8 grid of stars). Alas, the flags are merely suspended from pushpins; eventually I'll have the money to give them proper freestanding indoor poles topped with brass eagles.

The crown jewel of the office is arguably my prized vintage scale model of the U.S. Capitol, proudly on display on the center bookcases. Dating from the late 1950s, its white plastic parts have taken on a delightful warm ivory patina over the years.

















I could actually see using this as a dining table centerpiece. I need to get some LEDs and put them inside. If you're a history geek, this should further enhance the Victorian feel, since the Capitol's famous dome was designed and constructed in the 1860s. Those little medallions are FBI and Secret Service challenge coins. The stupid shit I've spent my money on over the years...

You wit da gummint?

I'm in the process of bringing back the senatorial splendor that once graced my study when I lived in my parents' house. This coincides with my latest wardrobe trend, that of an ambiguous government-type person. I frequently wear conservative neckties, dress shirts, and slacks, which, combined with the silver Crown Victoria, evoke an image of governmental authority. At times I am tempted to embellish the car's interior with embroidered eagles on the seats, making me wish I had a Cadillac or Lincoln. Anyway, I've put up red damask curtains, moved the desk in front of the window, hung my big gold eagle carving above the window, flanked the window with a U.S. flag and a North Carolina flag, and printed some eagle engravings and put them in gold frames. This is all having to be done on a tight budget, using things I already own or can get for next to nothing (the picture frames came from the Dollar Tree). I've been obsessing over finding a scale model of the U.S. Capitol, which is surprisingly difficult. No one seems to manufacture plastic model kits at the moment, and ebay has slim pickin's. Plus I still can't decide whether such would be tacky. Would a real Congressman have a plastic model of the Capitol on his bookshelf? I don't know. I've had to take down my oddball collectibles and put them in storage, such as model cars, action figures, soda bottles, and such, but it does make the room feel a little less cluttered.

Fantasy to Reality, With Much Ball-Busting Work in Between

Entertaining at home is both fun and a gigantic pain in the ass. For as long as I've been married, I've yearned to entertain a small group at my home in a high-class, pull out all the stops fashion. This mother's day, instead of going out to lunch, we treated my mother-in-law, her mother, and two friends whose mothers live far away to lunch at our house. It was a grand time, but damn, were we exhausted afterward.

Practically all of Saturday was spent giving the downstairs a deep-cleaning. Not just a pass with the broom and a swipe of a dishrag; no, dear reader, for hours yours truly was scrubbing the kitchen floor and scouring countertops like an Irish scullery maid, washing the toilet & vanity, wiping dust off of every surface including the individual glasses on the dry bar with a cloth (the Swiffer had been misplaced, later to be found under a pile of crap in the entry hall), vacuuming the living room rugs, and tossing out superfluous crap that had accumulated on the coffee table such as old magazines and catalogs from winter. The console table by the front door was particularly appalling, covered with the detritus of day-to-day life like old mail and receipts, the space underneath full of dust balls and several pairs of my wife's shoes, many of which hadn't been worn in months and had become encrusted with cobwebs. My wife helped me get the nasty, dark, piss-stained rug out of the living room and into the utility shed out of sight, revealing our gleaming Pergo floor, and then began preparing some of the next day's feast in advance, slicing fruit and marinating steaks. Our plans to go out for a drink Saturday night fell through, so I spent the evening polishing all the silver serving pieces. I was up until 12:30AM setting the dining table. We retired thoroughly drained.

Sunday morning I awoke about 8:00 and could not fall back asleep, my brain instantly buzzing with everything still to be done. I had to sweep the back patio and set up the patio umbrella and chair cushions. We did make it to Sunday service, but had to duck out right after communion and swing by the grocery for another bottle of bubbly and a bag of ice. Then we raced home to put the potatoes in the oven, change clothes, and set up the snacks on the patio.

Oh, how gorgeous the end result was! The dining table was resplendent with fresh roses, gold-leafed china, delicate crystal, sterling flatware, damask tablecloth & napkins, and gleaming, freshly polished candelabra. The dessert cake sat upon a polished silver platter, and next to it a silver water pitcher. Outside, the patio table was covered with a brilliant white cloth (hiding the dingy tiles) and boasted hummus in glass dishes, a cut crystal bowl full of pita chips, our sparkling silver champagne chiller, a pitcher of lemonade with glassware, crystal champagne flutes, and additional hors d'oeuvres such as brie, toast points, roasted peppers, and cucumber dill sandwiches. It was so sumptuous to relax on our redecorated patio, basking in the brilliance of the white fence and pink geraniums, sharing champagne and lively conversation, then to move on to the elegant dining saloon. By the end of the day, my feet were sore and my energy was sapped, but my fantasy of entertaining in high style had been realized.