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I’m 52 in may.

pop was born in 1920.

He wore a shirt and tie even when we played catch when I was a kid :)

Sometimes he’d let loose and take the tie off!

Always had a button up shirt and dress pants and shoes on.

Very different times.

He’d kill me if he saw how sloppy I dress sometimes!

Brings back so many memories and feelings from everyones comments. Makes me sad they are gone.

You, too? My dad's idea of 'kicking back' was taking off his tie, as well. I had to ask my mother if he ever owned a pair of jeans. LOL His weekend at-home attire around the house was usually a real, honest to God pair of pajamas and leather house slippers. He was one of those old-school AM radio types who seemed to feel that he was representing the station wherever he went. Blazer, slacks, dress shoes, collared shirt. The last time he and I had a chance to do a 'father-son' thing like going fishing was back in '93, at the C&O canal back home. He was using one of those wheeled oxygen tanks by then, but by God, he was still only one necktie away from holding court at a city council meeting. Had me bait the hook, remove the fish, but he did it all standing on a grassy bank in a pair of slip-on leather loafers. I was amazed that after 25 years, he could still get the line out there after a couple of practice casts, and with his general health in such decline, that he was actually hooking the things and landing them himself. I could tell he felt proud, because it kind of took him back to when I was a squirt and he was first teaching me how to do it. I felt proud, too. The old man had a little glimmer in his eye and little zest of life I hadn't seen in a good while. I'll carry the memory of that afternoon to my grave. After he passed away, my mom gave me two of the white handkerchiefs he always carried in his pants pocket. Like you said, a different era, different breed of father, different culture.

This is my Grandma and Grandpa. Courtesy of John Prine

Grandpa wore his suit to dinner
Nearly every day
No particular reason
He just dressed that way
Brown necktie and a matching vest
And both his wingtip shoes
He built a closet on our back porch
And put a penny in a burned out fuse

Grandpa was a carpenter
He built houses stores and banks
Chain smoked Camel cigarettes
And hammered nails in planks
He was level on the level
And shaved even every door
And voted for Eisenhower
Cause Lincoln won the war

Well, he used to sing me “Blood on the Saddle”
And rock me on his knee
And let me listen to radio
Before we got TV
Well, he’d drive to church on Sunday
And take me with him too
Stained glass in every window
Hearing aids in every pew

Grandpa was a carpenter
He built houses stores and banks
Chain smoked Camel cigarettes
And hammered nails in planks
He was level on the level
And shaved even every door
And voted for Eisenhower
Cause Lincoln won the war

Now my grandma was a teacher
Went to school in Bowling Green
Traded in a milking cow
For a Singer sewing machine
She called her husband “Mister”
And walked real tall in pride
She used to buy me comic books
After grandpa died

My pop born back in the oughts taught me croquet and pool.
He played the best from Chicago to B-ham including Fats.

Damn I was good.

Great times. :^)

“Sometimes he’d let loose and take the tie off!

Always had a button up shirt and dress pants and shoes on.

Very different times.”

Sounds like my dad. Born 1919. Never owned a pair of jeans.
His dad (grampa Clyde) was a blacksmith and a wagon wheelright, born 1874.