Twenty some years ago I was in college. My good friend and I were obsessed with "coolness."
Cars, chicks, rock and roll music, all of the important things in life-when you are at a certain age. We really wanted leather biker jackets as that one item of clothing would get us chicks, a free pass to the rock and roll hall of fame, and we could be James Dean.
I think my friend was out of college by the time he got his jacket. I never did get the money. We were both working at newspapers. He went to interview an older gentleman about who knows what. He ended up with a lecture on life. I don't think the old fellow appreciated his leather jacket.
The senior citizen told him that everyone wears a uniform. The way you dress, the mannerisms you affect, and the language you use determines what people think of you. Then he suggested he read, “How to win Friends and Influence People,” This sort of speech sounds a little silly to young hipsters. But, young hipsters probably by definition are pretentious. After all, why would you wear a cigarette behind your ear if you don't smoke? Why would you live in the "Pearl" district of Portland if you don't have any money? Why would you put a five hundred dollar stereo in a two hundred dollar car? Now, I would answer that question very quickly, "because you're a dumbass."
But, I digress.
A couple years ago, my cousin, who is somewhere around 50 and not really a very close cousin, called me from Hawaii. He wanted to let me know he was wearing short pants and knowing my feelings towards people who wear short pants as a matter of course, wanted to make sure I would still speak to him when he returned home. I assured him that all rules were invalid when on vacation. This is a speech I will not have with my daughter when she turns 20 and goes wandering around the world.
He then noted that he had actually seen two people in Hawaii who were wearing long pants. His wife met the one fellow who turned out to be a farmer from Minnesota, and the other guy had a “Got Milk,” baseball hat on. It was a pretty good bet he was a dairy farmer.
In short, real farmers don’t wear short pants. Unless they are from New Zealand or something. It could be put into a mathematical statement if I was actually smart. All arseholes wear shortpants but not all shortpants wearers are arseholes? I don’t know. My logic is not so good.
I do know that I was a dumbarse in college and for several years thereafter and perhaps am right now…If I would have bought that Langletz jacket it would be worth more now that what I paid for it...
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The old man was right about our uniforms. In the old days, mine was western boots, blue jeans and a white t-shirt. The ensemble virtually screamed "redneck farmboy". Now that I'm suave and sophisticated, I wear blue jeans, tennis shoes and COLORED t-shirts. I'm not sure, but I think that say's "shoulda gone to college".
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