I assume most families have this tradition. Once every few years everyone gets together over the summer or over the holidays, and someone decides it would be a good time to get a picture. That held true for my mom’s family, who would usually congregate down in Jacksonville FL at Mema’s (my mom’s mom) house. Mom has two sisters, and of course, the three of them and Mema, had some particular ideas about how the family picture would go down.
We were all at Mema and Granddaddy’s early on this December day. It wasn’t a large place, and the pack of relatives and cousins could make it a loud and exciting experience. The conversation turned toward the photograph. There was some discussion about how everyone should stand, what time we should arrive, and what everyone should wear. It was decided that the photographer could arrange us, but that the married couples would stand together. Mema asked that the women wear dresses and the men wear a coat and tie. As the time for the photograph approached, all of the families split, like a football team breaking huddle, to go get ready. Mom had something picked out for me and my brothers. Some of those clothes are embarrassing to look at now, but they must have been cute back then.
We got dressed and walked out into the rainy Florida weather to pile into the van for the trip to the photographers. Mom and Dad had raincoats. That may seem like an insignificant detail, but it is very important to the story. We arrived and walked into the lobby of the photography shop. Everyone made it in plenty of time. We all stood around chatting, like a family that actually likes each other.
That’s when Dad found a suitable spot where everyone could see him and made a big show of unbuttoning his rain coat, which to this point was sealed to the neck. “Well” he declared loudly, “I’m ready for some pictures! When do we start?”
All eyes were on Dad as he unbuttoned, and slipped out of, his long raincoat to reveal dress pants, an unbuttoned dress coat, a tie, and that’s it. It was like a hairy, middle-aged Chippendales. Dad’s bare chest and belly somehow managing to be the center of attention despite the tie hanging around his shirtless neck. I’m sure that was more skin than my conservative Mema was planning to have in her family picture. It was completely unexpected and shocking and hilarious. The room erupted in laughter. Mema maintained her composure, but she did let slip an “Oh my Lord!”
Dad had a wide and extremely satisfied grin on his face, “You said ‘coat and tie’ Mama Park. Coat and tie.” He paraded around a little bit for everyone’s benefit, doing a little jig. Fortunately, he did think to get Mom’s sign off on the stunt before hand, but at some point she couldn’t take any more and told him to go get his clothes on.
It is a classic “Rob” tale that is still told by my aunts, uncles, and cousins. I think of it every time I walk into a store and see a sign that says, “Shirts and shoes required.”