College-aged clothes

In today's installment of "The Clothing Project" we reach back in time to my college days. The jeans you see to the left were purchased when I was in college so many years ago. They are Levi's 560s, waist 34, length 30. One reason that I have been able to wear these jeans for so many years is that when I bought them I didn't need a 34 inch waist and thankfully I don't absolutely need the 34 inches now . . . but I admit that I'm getting closer to that reality.

As you can see, these jeans are pretty old and stained. There are paint stains up and down from several bedroom painting sessions, as well as grass stains on the knee from working in the yard at various times. The denim patch on the right (stage left) knee is a recent addition, covering an ever expanding rip that I finally decided to deal with a few weeks ago.

These jeans don't see any "formal" wear anymore, just bumming around the house and dirty work in the yard and such. But, they have that comfort that is best in jeans that are old and worn. I won't get rid of them for a while, I guess.

The shirt can be dated specifically to a purchase of October 1996. I remember this because Lynda and I were house-sitting for a graduate school professor that attended our church back in Statesboro, Georgia. We lived in his two-story house for several months while he and his wife were in England doing research on some medieval history topic or something. I remember buying that navy blue Land End long sleeve polo during October. It was around my birthday and the Braves were in the baseball playoffs again. (The team had actually won the year before, but I had missed the clinching game, spending it with Lynda and my sister as we took a night-time ghost tour of Savannah.)

So, I was determined to watch them win again in October 1996. I remember that the Braves were the strong favorite in the postseason that year and they made it back to the World Series to play the upstart New York Yankees. The Yankees had made it into the postseason the previous year (the first year with the Wild Card?) but had been beaten in the Division Series by the Seattle Mariners in a thrilling game 5. But in 1996, the Yankees (in Joe Torre's second year as manager?) made it all the way to the World Series.

The Braves won the first two games in Atlanta and seemed ready to sweep to their second straight World Series win. But in what became an all too familiar trend over the next five or six years, the Yankees fought back in Yankee Stadium, getting unexpected home runs from nobodies like Jim Leyritz. Sure enough, the Yankees came storming back and won the Series that year, beginning their run of success that is only now--twelve years later--beginning to (hopefully?!) come to a close.

So, I do have some rather specific memories about that shirt at least, though nothing that directly relates to wearing it.

Good advice on a birthday

Cartoon by Dave Walker. Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.

Worth one penny

I was in a bit of a funk this past weekend. Looking back at it today (as I succumb to a runny nose ), I am sure it was the beginnings of my current cold. But then it was just a general weariness and a headache that went on and off. I thought my body rhythms were slipping into preparation for gray skies and winter temperatures.

These feelings tended to cause me to be short with the kids and be in a generally bad mood. Poor parenting form, I admit . . . but it's in the past now.

Things improved a bit on Sunday, however. The weather was nice, sunny, the temperatures moderate. And I got outside after church during the afternoon to enjoy it. True, part of that "enjoyment" involved cutting the grass in the backyard, but at least I didn't sweat through my clothes or anything. (I had not wanted to cut the grass any more when I did it last two weeks ago and intentionally folded up the handle in an attempt to indicate that I would cut the grass no more forever. But . . . the length of the blades could not be denied and, as I say, the temperatures were moderate.)

So, anyway, I cut the grass and Lynda neatened up various flowerbeds by cutting back dead leaves, tree branches and the like. Once that was done, I even got to help Sarah and Grace practice their bike riding skills--something that I dearly wanted to do, but was determined not to force the issue.) The bike riding has been difficult since I have had very little luck finding reliable training wheels to help stabilize Sarah. Either training wheels are universally crap or we purchased an odd-sized bike that doesn't correspond with mass produced training wheels. Ultimately, it's been harder than it should have been. But Sarah is trying and I'm trying to hold my impatience with the wheels. It'll get worked out in the end . . . or it won't. It's not like kids are lining up around the block to ride bikes anymore, right?

After the brief bike riding session, the girls got all excited to sell lemonade. I know what you're thinking. "Isn't it two months two late to be trying that hoary old trick?" Well, yes, I suppose it is, but you can't deny the kid's entrepreneurial spirit when they are committed. So, we mixed up a batch of Kool-Aid ("Oh Yeah!") and pulled the small table up from the basement. Sarah fashioned a sign and we hit the sidewalk.

No one came by. It was, after all, 5ish on a slow Sunday afternoon. Everyone was watching the New England/Dallas football game, I guess. I hoped that we'd eventually see some runners or dog walkers come by, but nothing materialized. Grace seemed to give up after two minutes, convinced it was all a lost cause, but Sarah didn't want to let go. Besides, we had the whole pitcher of Kool-Aid just sitting there with the Dixie cups and everything. Luckily, the next-door neighbors appeared on their way to dinner and stopped to talk. They gave us some loose change and we drank our way through the pitcher as we talked. It gave the kids a sense of accomplishments, I guess. Anyway, I had a good time and my mood was greatly improved.

Don't Fear the Vest!

No, this post is not a love poem to Jim Tressel, (but our Friends From Up North don't agree--sometimes with rather salty language!) but no one other than Chandler Bing has done more to celebrate the sweater vest--one of my favorite articles of cold-weather clothing.


As you can see, I have a multitude of said clothing, in a variety of styles, colors, and weights. I don't have a specific story to go with each one, but rest assured that I have rocked each one of them in some awesome fashion over the years.

The gray one at bottom left is my "athletic" one, suitable for a tennis match in October or keeping me warm when raking leaves in the back yard. The navy blue one with the horizontal stripe is, I think, the oldest one. I know this because it is a JCrew vest and I haven't bought anything from JCrew in many a year. That navy one is also one of my favorite one's because I like navy blue and because I like the stripe. I often choose to wear it to work with a white shirt and a tie. I feel nerdy and classy when doing this--what you might choose to call "clerdy."

I think of the red one as my Christmas vest, as that is when I wear it most consistently. Sometimes, to ram the point home, I will wear it over a green long sleeved polo shirt. In doing so, I am saying "It's CHRISTMAS, as if you didn't know! Get ready!" I think I wore the red one over my mint green button-down and my striped green tie to the company Christmas party last year. Luckily, no one sniggered in my face.

I like the charcoal black one (top right) over blue button-down shirts, especially when paired with a black tartan-like tie that I wear occasionally. When I wear all of this with my black corduroy pants, I'm saying to the world that I am serious about myself, but I also do it with a twinkle in my eye. I think you know what I mean.

The two light colored ones don't get used as much as they should. For some reason, I prefer stronger colors in my vests. (I suppose I want to be confrontational, saying "Look at my sweater vest! It's brightly colored so you will look at it!") The one on the top left was a Christmas present from my parents. It has a square pattern in it that isn't visible in the picture. I often wear it with a red shirt that was also given to me by Mom and Dad. The other vest (top center) is oatmeal colored (maybe?) and is the most traditionally sweater vesty of the bunch. You might see Vance wearing this at the club during his tennis lesson. I like it even so.

The last one of the bunch is the blue one in the bottom right. My friend and former colleague Spec gave me that one when he left for his new job and fabulous life in New York City. I've never been to NYC in my adult life, but I expect that all the hipsters there wear vests like I do. When Lynda and I visited San Francisco for our 10th anniversary trip I wore a sweater vest almost every day. It kept me warm when the winds blew off the Bay, but I stayed cool (in more ways than one!) since it wasn't as bulky as a regular, full coverage sweater.

And that, people, is what they are all about!

Struggling to focus

I want to blog but I haven't found strong topics to write about. I felt like attempting to recap a few of the new shows that have premiered this Fall, but I can't convince myself to invest that much time in watching something (and probably something that isn't really worth watching once) several times to get all the nuances and jokes and dialogue bits.

So, the premiere episode of The Big Bang Theory that I downloaded for free from iTunes will likely stay unwatched and unappreciated. I think I'll delete it from my iPod so I can save more room for Wizard Rock tunes.

The most significant events in my life in the last several days involve our weekend trip down to Waycross, Georgia to attend my brother-in-law's marriage. Also, on the return trip, we took possession of Lynda's parent's van. First let me say that the van is a very nice ride. Cruising up the interstate in this baby was like driving a La-Z-Boy at 70 miles an hour. But La-Z-Boy's don't have cruise control, AC, fold-away seats, or a pretty nice stereo. It was also nice to be able to sit and stretch your legs from time to time. The kids appreciated the extra room (which I know will only be extra for another five months or so . . .)

The wedding was lovely and everything went well. I wasn't directly involved with a set role in the wedding itself--which was fine with me since we were travelling from a long way and scheduling would have introduced new problems in a wedding (which is always complicated enough). Since I wasn't "important" I tried to look after the kids now and then to free up others that had stuff to do. This caused a nice moment for me on Friday morning when I took Sarah, Grace, and my nephew to a small Waycross park and I was forcibly reminded of Tifton's Fulwood Park. It had the same sort of old-style metal tubing playground equipment with flaking paint. The ground itself was also exactly the same--clumps of grass with great expanses of sand. (You really understand that all of southern Georgia was once ancient seabed.) I enjoyed hanging out with the kids, swinging on the swingset and trying to remember some of my own childhood. It was also neat to find some cicada exoskeletons on the trees--something that the kid's didn't understand. I had vivid memories of finding them all over the pine trees of my childhood home, pulling them off and examining them. In such events and remembrances, my childhood is connected to my own children--though they will never appreciate that, I am sure.