Flannel Shirt

Another reason not to wear hooded sweatshirts

Here is a past blog about how wearing my hoodie puts me among bank robbers.

Apparently, according to crusty Geraldo Rivera, it's also justification for homicide.

Took my duster out for a walk

I took my duster out for a walk yesterday around Nikeland. Here I go out and buy a great raincoat and we're suddenly get the Northwest equivalent of a drought.

There were a lot of nutria out there. A lot of little ones. They seem to be thriving there. I'm guessing within a year you'll find them as roadkill in the neighborhood.

It was overcast and wet today. Not raining but low-hanging fog. When I finished the walk I went up the hill to the Black Rock coffee kiosk. They recognize me there. I'm the old guy who walks. And gets a mocha at the end of the walk.

Rock on.

Duster

It was clear that having moved to Oregon I needed a really good raincoat. So I ordered a duster, like this one:

That's not me, just a guy posing in a duster. When I got home Saturday night it was sitting on my doorstep in its box. I put it on and it felt kind of like a costume. You know, you've got to become one with  your wardrobe. So today I wore it in the rain down to the recycling dumpster here. It's becoming me.

Now I have to get a wide-brimmed rainhat. Then I'll be able to hang out with the nutria in Nike World across the street even when it's a downpour.