Seams Like A Plan

   How on earth can a person make plans when he or she isn’t sure what they want to do in life? That being said, if we all knew what we wanted to be when we grew up, we would therefore know to plan on where to go to school, what curriculum to take, how many years and dollars that would have to be set aside to accomplish this-and that would be easy.

What if the person in question was talented in so many areas and could be a professional in all of them if he would only choose one to pursue? But to decide on a single attribute would seem to betray all of his other gifts leaving them to wither and die. On the other hand, by settling in this way he wouldn’t be scattering his energies to the four winds either. What if he were the type of person who can’t commit to anything because he over does it when weighing in on all the factors involved? And after his evaluation of the pros against the cons when the cons come out in force, he gets the jitters and backs away.

What about the person who has a significant other? Does he make a plan without discussing it with that person? Or does he bring them in on the plan that may go against the plan already in place-you know, the plan he didn’t tell you about? What if the plan is that there is no plan? A plan to just knock around through life entrusting all of your outcomes to your gut. Even though there were some hits and misses, I am betting that the percentage of each were probably comparatively close to those who did make plans. So why bother?

What about the person who is down-right stupid and isn’t capable of making a coherent plan in the first place, and in the second place not smart enough to follow it? Deciding on a plan of action depends on what achievement hangs in the balance. For instance, my friend , Lu Lu, was planning a sew-it-yourself project that on a scale of difficulty ( if you follow the pattern closely) wasn’t at all hard for a person of average intelligence.

But for as long as I’ve known Lu Lu Louis Damdyker she had never dressed herself in anything that was handmade without a visible Walmart tag still stuck to it. And I am also sure that she was stepping outside of her comfort zone taking on this project knowing that she lacked experience in all phases of sewing. So I didn’t really believe that Lu Lu would attempt to make any sort of clothing her family could actually wear. When she told me of her plan to make Jogging suits for herself and her family, I was a little leery.

One of the problems I had with Lu Lu was that every endeavor she would attempt to undertake turned into a convoluted dilemma that confused not only her, but everyone involved.

Just shopping for a pattern left me scratching my head in amazement at how simple this task could have been if she had let it. Lu Lu stood in front of the big metal drawers where the sewing patterns were kept. She began her search for instructions that looked easy to her, becoming frustrated because there were so many. She then calmed herself by the thought that at least they were all organized and categorized under the title of the manufacturer. The brands included: The Hardin and Handy brand and one called Simpleton. Lu Lu knew herself well when it came to self-aptitude. When she thought a task might be too confusing or difficult to grasp, she reverted to the Damdyker Dyslexic Language Art that her family often practiced and decided to utilize it here. She chose two brands to compare, ‘Simpleton’ and ‘Hardin and Handy.’

The practice entailed a process of deciphering. To decode the word ‘Simpleton’ she instructed her brain to tell her eyes to surround part of the title with parenthesis and confine the main word, (Simple). Then she visualized the last part of the word ton with a line through it which, to her, canceled it out. So she ended up reading it like this, (Simple) ton. After comparing (Simple) ton against the other brand, (Hard) in and Handy, she decided to go with the Simple instead of the Hard. It made sense to me!

Lu Lu chose a sweat suit pattern in the size that fits all since this was a project that included the whole family. All that was left to do was to pick out the fabric and thread to complete her shopping.. She picked out a sturdy fabric but didn’t realize that this beautiful cloth was, in fact, the kind that potato sacks were made from, burlap. She did read the sign that described it, but she deciphered it in the Damdyker language and saw it as, burlap. “Oh, this is just perfect,” Lu Lu exclaimed. And,“If it’s made for doing laps, it should be ideal for jogging suits.”

So Lu Lu sequestered herself with her sewing machine and planed only to re-emerge when the project was finished. Her plan was to surprise every window-peeker on the block with her version of a fashion face-lift and therefore be noticed. In anticipation of that reward she rushed along and was finished sooner than she expected. When all the dust settled Lu Lu held up her finished project to take a better look at it. “I did it.” Lu Lu shouted as she bounced up and down. She thought that this was by far her greatest achievement. In reality, her success wasn’t in making the sweat suits to look like sweat suits; Lu Lu’s triumph came by transforming a flat piece of burlap into what its destiny always had been— potato sacks.

After hearing grunting sounds coming from the pile of burlap scraps that little Al, her 3 year old son, apparently buried himself in, Lu Lu discovered him having having trouble trying on the top half of his new suit. He was having a hard time inserting (at the same time) his extra large cranium and long arms into the place they were designated to go. Wrestling with his spud sack to get both appendages inside it, little Al turned his grunts into whines.

To cure the problem, Lu Lu took a scissors and cut the side seams from the bottom up about halfway. Finally, he was able to shove both arms into the sleeves. But something wasn’t right. The sleeves were too wide and longer than little Al’s monkey–like arms. Lu Lu grabbed the shears again and this time trimmed the cuffs. But she couldn’t do anything about how unusually wide they seemed to be. It didn’t dawn on her that she had sewn the pattern piece marked ‘JOGGER TOP LEFT SLEEVE’ to where the pattern piece marked ‘JOGGER BOTTOM RIGHT LEG’ should have gone. So not only did she botch the job by mixing up where the sleeves and the legs were supposed to be, but she had switched up the right and left. So by the time she had finished dressing little Al, Lu Lu had to decide whether she should teach little Al how to walk backwards or not.

All dressed and ready the three Damdykers headed for the front door that led into the street. On the way out, they paused to look at themselves in a large mirror that hung on the entryway wall.

First in line was Big Al, showing off his joggers that unlike the other two outfits had silver stripes going through it due to fingernail snags during creation. His pants were not constructed to allow enough room through the crotch area. So when he turned to bend over a show was produced that introduced a pimply plumber’s crack—of which no one should ever have to see. One leg of his suit was longer than the other. And it looked to me like she added hippy fringe to the bottom hem, but was, in fact, a group of long untrimmed threads. Big Al didn’t like sleeves, so Lu Lu cut them off (lopsided, of course).

Next in line was Lu Lu. Her monstrosity didn’t look the same as the others. She decided to make hers into a dress. I just saw it as the mashed version of a potato sack with a sweatband made to match it. But other than that every crooked seam and sewing error she perpetrated against the first two outfits she also inflicted upon her own.

And then there was little Al. His outfit looked as if Lucy Ricardo had sewn it with the help of Magilla Gorilla. The silver in his suit was coming off and had planted itself on and around his bulbous Zeppelin-like head. So if the lights went out, little Al would be taken for a Fourth of July sparkler. And since his clothing was put together like a backward jigsaw puzzle, if viewing him from afar, it was hard to tell whether he was coming or going. Next, Lu Lu wanted to test how much of the intentional glow there was and if it would leave a lasting impression on the public. So she turned off the lights. Sure enough, when the lights went out, the Damdykers went on.

I am guessing that Benjamin Franklin was right when he said, “If you fail to make a plan, you are planning to fail.”

Lu Lu made a plan. But the goal of the plan wasn’t about a D.I.Y project. It was a plan to achieve her craving to be noticed. Though her project was a disaster and could have stood improvements, the important thing is that the plan leading to the goal was successful. Good job, Lu Lu!