Prom Season For Ron

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Wednesday - March 12, 2008

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As the publisher of MidWeek, I often have the humble privilege of being invited to many social and charitable events. Some months it seems like I could go out practically every night to some function or another. I’m kind of a homebody, but I certainly try to make the rounds as much as possible.

Part of my hesitance is the requested attire. Of course, we all know what aloha attire is, but I don’t wear a lot of aloha shirts. In fact, I currently only have one. For all the other attire requests, I need a fashion translator to tell me what is appropriate to wear.

Can you blame me? After all, what the heck does aloha crisp mean? How about cocktail, formal or even casual?

I’m a bit gun shy as two years ago I went to a big function for the Hawaii Food Industry Association. We were told to dress in costume as our favorite character from the movie Rocky. I didn’t think I could pull off the Sylvester Stallone body, so I went as his brother-in-law in the movie, Paulie. I showed up in a porkpie hat, an overcoat, white T-shirt, a 5 o’clock shadow and a cigar stub hanging out of my mouth. Honest to God, I was the only one wearing a costume. I think my problem was that no one noticed I was wearing a costume.

Anyway, lately I’ve been invited to a number of formal black tie affairs. I don’t own my own tuxedo, so I have to rent one. I recently rented one not realizing it is the peak of the prom season.

On the day I picked up mine, it was also the pick-up day for all the prom rentals for the weekend. The place was mobbed with these young guys and their girlfriends or parents. I was in a rush and just wanted to get out of there. As I pushed my way through the crowd, I ran into one of the guys and we both fell to the floor.

We both had tuxedos in identical carrying bags and yes, I ended up grabbing his and he mine. I didn’t know it until I got home. My wife wanted to see what I rented so she unzipped the bag. Inside was what looked like a Zoot suit with an orange shirt and accessories.

She exclaimed, “No way this is yours!” I realized it wasn’t but was kind of insulted that she didn’t think I would go with something young and edgy. Somewhat indignant, I replied, “What makes you think it’s not mine?” She fired back immediately, “Uh, the 28-inch-waist pants!”