Pockets


How I keep puttering around

There are things I absolutely love about my heritage.

Some things I don't like.

And then there are the things that work, blast it all to blazes, even it I don't want it to.

The fact is if my maternal grandparents hadn't relocated to Arizona, if I existed at all I would be Mr. Redneck. That isn't necessarily a bad thing, it just takes explanation in some circles. A lot of explanation.

When I painted my sanctum, I bought a few pairs of overalls just to keep my regular slacks clean.

And I don't like to admit it, but they are practical, especially for a technopagan. Five pockets below the waist, and I don't have to worry about pulling up my pants because the stuff in my pockets keeps pulling them down.

Even handier, two pockets at chest level that work great for my Palm and my cell phone.

Yes, I still prefer nudity. But even then I had a hard time with pockets. You think a fanny pack looks a little strange, try it without pants. I was going to try a photographer's vest but. I. Don't. Do. Beige. I still may go with a stagehand tool vest, but that is for another day.

So as much as I would rather not, I've reclaimed part of my heritage for around-the-house use at least. I still won't go downtown in them (and I don't OWN a John Deere baseball cap, nor do I want one), but they are too practical to throw away until I have worn them out.

Posted: Thu - May 21, 2009 at 03:14 PM
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