Last evening, we went to a nearby Kohl's, where I "saved" a bunch of money when I bought some new shorts.
That's right--I still wear shorts in the warm weather. Yes, I'm that Old Guy you see wearing them and think: Gross!
Oddly, back in Oklahoma, where I grew up, boys didn't wear shorts in the summer--even though the temps often soared above 100. Blue jeans. You know--cowboy pants. That's what we wore--what men wore.
Things softened when we moved to Ohio. I don't remember when I got my first pairs of shorts--and started wearing them regularly. But I'm pretty sure it was after high school--probably in college, when I saw the Cool Guys wearing them. So ... what choice did I have, you know?
My mother didn't care for them, by the way. When I would visit her in her stages-of-care place later on, she would tell me that if I was wearing shorts, they wouldn't serve me in the dining hall. (They did.)
And another time--when I was in my 40s!--at a family reunion, Joyce and I came out of our motel room (right next to Mom and Dad's), and when she saw me wearing jeans, she said (as only Mother could): You're not going to wear jeans, are you?
I guess not. Muttering grievous execrations, I went back into our room and changed into some slacks. And was, of course, the only Dyer at the picnic not wearing jeans.
Jeans and shorts, shorts and jeans. No way in Mom's world. Mom had standards!
And in a story I've told elsewhere ... when I was in Naples in 1999, I headed out one morning to "do" Mt. Vesuvius. In shorts. On the streets ... in the bus ... Neapolitan men looked at me, pointed and laughed. (I needed no translation.) Not one of them was wearing shorts. (Cultural faux pas!)
Anyway, I've worn them for decades now. As I sit here typing, I'm wearing the new pair on whose purchase I "saved" so much at Kohl's last evening. (See pic.)
My late mother would disapprove. And I probably will agree with her one day--maybe very soon.
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