Last twenty years of my life I've owned army surplus coats. That's just about it. Sometimes when I escort my family into a nice restaruant the Hostess naturally wonders by what means I will be paying for the meal.
In truth, my decore has not changed much in 40 years. Colored T Shirt, blue jeans, sometimes boots, army jacket. I also own a box full of sweaters sympathetic relatives keep sending me. I like oversize shirts.
I had a Levis blue jean jacket once with a Grateful Dead patch on it...lost it during a bout of DT's. When we lived outside Sheridan Wyoming I bought a blue rain coat, a real yuppie gusher, but the zipper soon went south and it remains useless hanging on a hook in the mudroom.
I looked all over Billings for a take down .22 LR Stevens Favorite but could not find one. We were in Big Bear Sports... and they had coats. Gee, I thought, look at all the coats. Blue ones, brown ones...
My wife pointed me to a hooded Carhardt coat. Looked tough. I liked it. Hoods were a sore point, though. Most folks won't take a coat with a permanently attached hood. Makes them look like sissy boys or something. It never bothered me, as the hood hangs out of sight, out of mind; though it can snag on underbrush in the forest. These coats were on sale for 89 bucks.
(I don't think most men like things on their heads, or whatever is there must pass careful inspection. You don't tie down a cowboy hat, you just don't turn wrong in the Montana wind either or you'll lose it. I think the baseball cap passes by lack of personality rather than having anything special to say... who knows? This hat business is personal stuff. Another thread. But Hoods?)
"Say, that's a good coat." I told my wife.
"It's 89 bucks. How about this one over here for 79?"
Well, the 79 dollar one wasn't too bad, it just wasn't special. Didn't have...the look, whatever the hell that is.
"I've rarely purchased shoes, and coats? Never. You're always telling me to buy some clothes. Well, what's wrong with this coat?"
"Nothing," She said sheepishly, "only we don't have much money, and we have to pay the Carpenters."
It was true. We owed the Carpenters another six thousand bucks. Still, Winter was here. I needed a coat. She always wanted to go to restaraunts.
Did she like my Wino decore? I don't have enough bread to pay for the meal; how about a hit off my bottle of Night Train Express? Pull that out of one of the large pockets of the Army coat. You can keep anything in an Army coat. Even a mock army bayonet with a compass in the hilt. You really want money for this meal? How bout you just let us walk out of here?
I took her to the Columbia section of the store. Yuppie coats for 300 bucks and up. Later I looked in Cabellas and saw similar gear for 150.00. I don't know any thing about Columbia sportswear; must be on the West coast, Oregon or something, where the yuppies grow lean and drink lots of water.
"See?" I showed her. "A real coat is 300 bucks and you're trying to save 10 bucks on a 89 dollar coat."
I went over to a leather rack. Now, leather is another topic entirely, kinda like hats. Leather is personal. You don't want to wear the wrong leather. I've a little kid's face, and a Bomber Jacket, for instance, would make me look like I wanted to grow up someday and firebomb Dresdan like the Big Kids.
These coats were from Hong Kong or something. You could tell. There was another rack nearby at over twice the price; Columbia again, nice lines and trim leather: nearly 200 bucks. These coats were only 89 dollars, marked down from 140. I tried one on. A brown one.
"You look sick," She said, "here, try this on."
A black one.
I put it on. Not too bad. The shoulders were padded. Too bad. Why did they always add stupid stuff? "Yeah, I'm bad; look at my padded shoulders."
I took off the medium and put on a large. It was enormous. The shoulders fell down my arms. Too big, but utilitarian, I thought. Block more wind.
A local rancher only wears cheap leather. Blocks the wind, takes the rip when you pass through thorns. Even Carhardt's wear out sooner, he'd told me. He was quite a guy. Ran cattle in the Mo River Breaks. Marlbarro (sic) the cigarette company asked him to be their poster boy. He turned them down. He didn't smoke. There's honor you don't see much any more.
"I don't look like I'm trying to be tough, do I?"
"No, you look good."
"OK, get me this for Christmas."
A real coat. A leather coat. I'd arrived.
When I go into a restaruant now the waitress will escort us confidently to the 89 dollar coat table. All the other guys in the room will know I got the cheap chinese. They can reassure themselves the extra 300 dollars they paid meant they lived better.
A couple days ago I was looking for some boots in the coat room and found a bag. Inside was the leather coat. Merry Christmas.
My wife hadn't managed to transport it to the safety and hiding of her closet.
I went to the room and took it out of the bag yesterday. I wanted to drive to Billings in Style. I wore the coat.
I looked inside and read the lable. Bomber Jacket, it said. It sure didn't look like a bomber jacket. I guess all the coats coming out of China these days are probably called Bombers.
I don't know about miracles. I'm not saying nothing. But if a miracle occured, and I ever got a book published, you think at some point the New York publisher would want to see me in New York? Yeah, probably. Sign a few books, eat some italian food. I'd wear my very best. I'd wear the 89 dollar leather coat.
"We've got to get you dressed," The Agent says, 'before we go out into public."
munk
In truth, my decore has not changed much in 40 years. Colored T Shirt, blue jeans, sometimes boots, army jacket. I also own a box full of sweaters sympathetic relatives keep sending me. I like oversize shirts.
I had a Levis blue jean jacket once with a Grateful Dead patch on it...lost it during a bout of DT's. When we lived outside Sheridan Wyoming I bought a blue rain coat, a real yuppie gusher, but the zipper soon went south and it remains useless hanging on a hook in the mudroom.
I looked all over Billings for a take down .22 LR Stevens Favorite but could not find one. We were in Big Bear Sports... and they had coats. Gee, I thought, look at all the coats. Blue ones, brown ones...
My wife pointed me to a hooded Carhardt coat. Looked tough. I liked it. Hoods were a sore point, though. Most folks won't take a coat with a permanently attached hood. Makes them look like sissy boys or something. It never bothered me, as the hood hangs out of sight, out of mind; though it can snag on underbrush in the forest. These coats were on sale for 89 bucks.
(I don't think most men like things on their heads, or whatever is there must pass careful inspection. You don't tie down a cowboy hat, you just don't turn wrong in the Montana wind either or you'll lose it. I think the baseball cap passes by lack of personality rather than having anything special to say... who knows? This hat business is personal stuff. Another thread. But Hoods?)
"Say, that's a good coat." I told my wife.
"It's 89 bucks. How about this one over here for 79?"
Well, the 79 dollar one wasn't too bad, it just wasn't special. Didn't have...the look, whatever the hell that is.
"I've rarely purchased shoes, and coats? Never. You're always telling me to buy some clothes. Well, what's wrong with this coat?"
"Nothing," She said sheepishly, "only we don't have much money, and we have to pay the Carpenters."
It was true. We owed the Carpenters another six thousand bucks. Still, Winter was here. I needed a coat. She always wanted to go to restaraunts.
Did she like my Wino decore? I don't have enough bread to pay for the meal; how about a hit off my bottle of Night Train Express? Pull that out of one of the large pockets of the Army coat. You can keep anything in an Army coat. Even a mock army bayonet with a compass in the hilt. You really want money for this meal? How bout you just let us walk out of here?
I took her to the Columbia section of the store. Yuppie coats for 300 bucks and up. Later I looked in Cabellas and saw similar gear for 150.00. I don't know any thing about Columbia sportswear; must be on the West coast, Oregon or something, where the yuppies grow lean and drink lots of water.
"See?" I showed her. "A real coat is 300 bucks and you're trying to save 10 bucks on a 89 dollar coat."
I went over to a leather rack. Now, leather is another topic entirely, kinda like hats. Leather is personal. You don't want to wear the wrong leather. I've a little kid's face, and a Bomber Jacket, for instance, would make me look like I wanted to grow up someday and firebomb Dresdan like the Big Kids.
These coats were from Hong Kong or something. You could tell. There was another rack nearby at over twice the price; Columbia again, nice lines and trim leather: nearly 200 bucks. These coats were only 89 dollars, marked down from 140. I tried one on. A brown one.
"You look sick," She said, "here, try this on."
A black one.
I put it on. Not too bad. The shoulders were padded. Too bad. Why did they always add stupid stuff? "Yeah, I'm bad; look at my padded shoulders."
I took off the medium and put on a large. It was enormous. The shoulders fell down my arms. Too big, but utilitarian, I thought. Block more wind.
A local rancher only wears cheap leather. Blocks the wind, takes the rip when you pass through thorns. Even Carhardt's wear out sooner, he'd told me. He was quite a guy. Ran cattle in the Mo River Breaks. Marlbarro (sic) the cigarette company asked him to be their poster boy. He turned them down. He didn't smoke. There's honor you don't see much any more.
"I don't look like I'm trying to be tough, do I?"
"No, you look good."
"OK, get me this for Christmas."
A real coat. A leather coat. I'd arrived.
When I go into a restaruant now the waitress will escort us confidently to the 89 dollar coat table. All the other guys in the room will know I got the cheap chinese. They can reassure themselves the extra 300 dollars they paid meant they lived better.
A couple days ago I was looking for some boots in the coat room and found a bag. Inside was the leather coat. Merry Christmas.
My wife hadn't managed to transport it to the safety and hiding of her closet.
I went to the room and took it out of the bag yesterday. I wanted to drive to Billings in Style. I wore the coat.
I looked inside and read the lable. Bomber Jacket, it said. It sure didn't look like a bomber jacket. I guess all the coats coming out of China these days are probably called Bombers.
I don't know about miracles. I'm not saying nothing. But if a miracle occured, and I ever got a book published, you think at some point the New York publisher would want to see me in New York? Yeah, probably. Sign a few books, eat some italian food. I'd wear my very best. I'd wear the 89 dollar leather coat.
"We've got to get you dressed," The Agent says, 'before we go out into public."
munk
