First Posted: 2/24/2015
Researchers tell us that this whole business of wearing jewelry dates as far back as 75,000 years, with some of the earliest accessories being animal teeth, bits of leather and feathers, shells and pebbles. Archaeologists have found several accessorizing artifacts during their digs over time.
As to the whys when it comes to those prehistoric folks who certainly had a whole crudely carved bowl full of other concerns — not the least of which was survival — well, that’s a lot harder to ascertain because, while the Ice Man may have cometh, he also departed long ago.
My theory on those with prehistoric urges to accessorize is as follows. As long as there have been people, people have certain urges to, and I’ll put this delicately, hook up. And, while there have always been animals who’ve done the same, such as the peacock and his ability to make himself more attractive, well, let’s just say that people tend to feel they need a little help.
I suppose as time evolved, that’s how jewelry stores came about, for which I’m pretty sure my friend Scott Koenig is grateful, since he now runs Don Jenkins with the same class and professionalism as the man who taught him the business, his father, Don.
Personally, I view this whole business of jewelry wearing to be more the domain of women. As a matter of fact, beyond a wedding ring and, perhaps a watch, which serves a utilitarian purpose, I don’t see a whole lot of men committed to ostentation when it comes to wearing jewelry.
Now, I do have a couple of rings, never worn simultaneously, and only worn occasionally as a means to honor my mother, who gave both of them to me upon my graduations from high school (a mother’s intuition knew that class ring my LCC mates and I insisted we get wouldn’t be worn even the day after we left the halls off Cable Road) and from Miami University.
Additionally, even at times when I’ll wear a ring, it will be in cold-weather months, because, in warm weather, my fingers swell to the size of Mickey’s hands.
Several weeks ago, I was reminded of men and jewelry a couple of times, the first while watching Ken Burns’ wonderful PBS documentary on the Roosevelts. Once the series shifted from Teddy to FDR, in several of the photos and news clips of the president, I noticed the presence of a pinky ring on his left hand, which is something I tend to associate more with Tony Soprano and Paulie Walnuts than leaders of the free world.
The other time I thought of men and jewelry occurred recently at a McDonald’s, where I often find myself during a workday, stealing some WiFi, sipping some coffee and working on reports on the iPad.
As I work, I catch all sorts of snippets of conversation, especially from the part of the McDonald’s culture who gather daily to discuss the world’s problems. I remember it was in Hillsboro in southeast Ohio that I heard a couple of guys talking, mostly complaining about work, and the man griping the most had his words punctuated by all sorts of clicking sounds.
Now, ordinarily, I’ve trained myself to block out background voices and sounds when I’m working in a McD’s, but the “clicks” intrigued me to the point I looked up to attach the voice and sound effects to the individual.
It was then I discovered the source of the clicking. They were rings that made the sound when, for emphasis, he hit the table while delivering his sermon. The rings adorned every finger, including the thumbs. Upon closer observance of what I took to be a phenomenon, I noticed he actually had TWO rings on his middle fingers, one over each knuckle, all in all, 10 fingers, 12 rings.
While I lamented the fact that I’d already written a column for you on the McDonald’s culture a few weeks earlier, I still took a slip of paper, jotted down the content of the moment as I do often for potential column ideas and shoved in my shirt pocket.
And, that’s the origin of my weekly rant today, my take on men and jewelry, all the way from its embryonic stages at a McDonald’s in Hillsboro several weeks ago to wherever you’re sitting right now.
