PHOENIX (AP) - If someone asked you what the official necktie of Arizona is, would you know the answer? The bola tie. If you've lived here long, surely you've seen one somewhere. But hardly anyone wears them anymore. That's worrisome to the members of the Bola Tie Society of Arizona. After all, the club's mission is to promote the wearing of the bola tie as the state's official neckwear. The society may be obscure. But it has tenacity. The club has been in existence since 1966. Back then, a small group gathered at the Westward Ho Hotel for the specific purpose of trying to persuade the state to adopt the bola tie as an emblem of Arizona. It took five years and four bills in the Legislature before then-Gov. Jack Williams signed House Bill 19 on April 22, 1971 proclaiming the bola tie as "the official state neckwear." In its heyday in the late 1960s and early 1970s, the Bola Tie Society was 400 bola tie wearers strong. Now membership has dwindled to a faithful few. Over the years some died and others moved away. Some just stopped coming and new members aren't exactly knocking down the doors, said Don Prusakowski, the club's president. Every fourth Tuesday of the month, the club gathers at the Hometown Buffet in south Scottsdale. At the most recent luncheon, Prusakowski announced that he was pleased that a table needed to be added to accommodate the crowd of 23. Can you guess what was hanging around every member's neck? The penalty for attending without a bola tie is a $1 fine. Annual dues are $10. The fines and dues fund the society's big evening of dining and dancing held each year at Treulich's Steak House. To be a member in good standing, there are other things you must do for credibility, according to the society's proclamation. It is your duty to pronounce the word "bola" - it's often mistakenly called "bolo" - and to correct those who mispronounce it. You are, of course, entitled to wear the official neckwear at any time or place, informal or formal. You must encourage and urge others to wear the official neckwear, too, thus elevating the bola tie's profile. Bob Caylor, the club's secretary and treasurer, is wistful about raising the bola tie up from its current stature. He wishes that Arizona legislators would wear them, "even the governor," Caylor added. He's sure they don't know about Arizona Bola Tie Week. That's because there hasn't been one since 1983. "We'd like a little help from the governor to keep it going. ... I doubt if she even knows about it - being she's from New York." When asked if she knew that Arizona had an official state neckwear, and if so, what might it be, Gov. Janet Napolitano paused, then exclaimed "bola tie" during the unannounced pop quiz. Whoa. Correct pronunciation and everything. Next question: Would she consider reinstituting Arizona Bola Tie Week? Napolitano retorted: "I don't know, are there any strings attached?" The society's youngest member is 59. The oldest, 96-year-old Russel S. Swing rarely misses a meeting. He is so proud about his seniority that his bola tie centerpiece is a $20 gold coin from 1908, the year he was born. At this meeting, the Bola Tie Society had another bonus besides the extra table: a new member, 88-year-old John Brimmer. Brimmer's reason for joining - he practically goes to bed wearing his bola tie - made him a perfect fit at the monthly buffet. Bill Close, the only charter member who is still a member, also attended. The bola tie is the legendary local news anchor's trademark; on camera he always wore a bola tie. He has accumulated hundreds. The ones given to him by viewers prove that just about anything can be made into a bola tie. Close, 83, spoke under his breath, somewhat affectionately about these oddball ties. "Some old fart in Globe would take a piece of plywood and cut it to resemble the state of Arizona; one was a moose turd encased in plastic or a small rattlesnake in plastic, and lots of scorpions; one was a big rock I wore on a newscast one day," Close said. "I had a sore neck it was so heavy."