Jesus-Indians and Contraceptive Co-Pays

I don’t think Jesus minds too much if we miss the Handlin’ for good reason. The cocktail flu ain’t really a strong enough reason to not go and get a dose but the real flu probably gets you off the hook. If ever there was a time when you just might get bitten-it might be when you are throwing off some viral juju. A sip of strychnine out of the Mason jar though-might do you good.

I got dressed in an attempt to go but just didn’t have the stamina. So I had fellowship at home-with DayQuil. I leave tomorrow for another round of airports-hotels-meeting rooms and carpet reviews so I’ve gotta rest up. Besides-dressing right now in the mid-Atlantic area is no easy feat. The temps can vary as much as thirty degrees so it’s no man’s land regarding consistent requirements for fabric and clothing weight. And it’s been misty-rainy here as well.

Brittons was the bomb…as kids would say today. I don’t exaggerate when I say that their Main Street store in Columbia S.C. circa 1985 was as tasty as any haberdashery you would find in Gotham. It was nothing short of a miniature Polo Mansion. This was also a time when you could only buy Polo in a few places in S.C. and Brittons had the best of the best from the Polo line. They also had a taste level that allowed the creation of private label stuff that so mimicked the look of Polo-plebes like me could actually afford a few things. They did a ton of well customized Hertling and they styled stuff from Country Britches that to this day-I can visualize. I didn’t have the money to buy anything Polo at regular price back then but I was first in line for their sales twice a year.

It never really gets what I call “tweedy cold” in South Carolina so many of us who were trying to sport that classic Polo look back then did so mid January in a pool of sweat. It just didn’t get cold enough to wear head to toe tweed and flannel. I wore it anyway-surprised?

My company also demanded that we wear suits so tweed sportcoat were nonexistent in my closet. But then I walked in and spied this bullet proof baby.

I call it bullet proof because after almost 25 years of accompanying me around the world-this coat remains as pristine today as when I bought it-at half price-for the stunning sum of one hundred and eighty dollars.

I was making 29k back then as a hospital rep for a drug company-that was a lot of dough…for the coat and for a 24 year old kid to bring home each year.

I had never seen pockets like this. Mainly because I’d never seen The Shooting Party or any Merchant Ivory stuff or read any English explorer biographies like Mallory or had never seen turn of the century golf photographs. They stood out kinda funny but I liked them. The stiffness of this fabric made them stand out even more.

I even closed the throat-wind latch on this baby one day when it became a ...brrrr chilly 58 degrees. Almost did that auto-asphyxiation thang on myself before I could get it undone. Ever been in a situation where calling 911 was not out of the question but not so much that before dialing-you had enough presence of mind to realize how embarasing it was going to be when the arrived? This was one of two times I've been caught in those tentacles. The other was when I accidentally zipped up my ........

Some of the Mallory team....I can hear them now..."Hey guys-before we attempt Everest-lets swing by Brittons in Columbia South Carolina and get kitted out for the climb"!

Never have I owned such a versatile coat. Jeans-earth tone cords-gray flannels-seersucker-gingham-lycra…it goes with everything! In my attempt to make it to fellowship, I paired it with a fifteen year old pair of Polo cords and brown suede brogues.

What’s the oldest thing in your clothing cupboard? Speaking of cupboards-LFG turned in her first of four book projects the other week. The Indian in the Cupboard was her choice for project uno. She had a choice of making a shadow box-a book cover or an advertising poster to accompany the more thorough written report to be turned in. I love working with her on the right brain projects. I struggle to help her with the left brain stuff-I had to hire a tutor to get me through grad school statistics. I is a Liberal Arts man.

LFG knocking out another page or two of The Indian in the Cupboard post Cotillion last month. My mother had to knock my a_s out to get me to read anything at that age.

So LFG decides on creating a book cover. We find some clip art to her liking. I print our various sized for her and then she goes to work.

I really thought it was cool when she suggested that we put the little Indian in the side pocket of Omri’s pants. Cool no?

Ok….gotta get to work here. No chemotherapy strategies today. I’m down-market with perplexing issues regarding women’s contraception and hormone replacement. Still blows my mind that the cash out of pocket co-pays for oral contraceptives are often times higher than the co-pays for Viagra. That’s logical right? Being the father of an only child-a budding woman…should turn any man into a feminist to some degree.

Onward-With little Indians-And Big Tweedy Bellows Pockets-And Higher Co-Pays

ADG