MORE D.L. STEWART: You can just call me the Grandpa National Bank
It’s not our fault. Being stupid is in our DNA. Men start out as stupid teenage boys and a lot of us never get over it. When I was a stupid teenage boy in Cleveland, I left the house for junior high every morning in the galoshes my mother made me wear over my shoes on any day it was snowing. Which, in Cleveland, meant any day between November and March. But I stashed them under a bush when I got around the corner and spent the rest of the day in frozen socks. Now when I leave the house on cold days I dutifully put on the scarf my wife insists I wear and when I get around the corner I stuff it in my coat pocket.
AND EVEN MORE D.L.: First we’re hacked and then we’re hacked off
By coincidence, the day before that letter to The Times was published I attended a funeral in Akron. Mercifully, the rabbi kept the ceremony short, because it was a morning of single-digit temperatures and snow-covered tombstones. At the grave site the women were swathed in ankle-length black puffer coats. The men’s coats, including mine, stopped at mid-hip. The women were wrapped in scarves and hats and they all wore boots. Most of the men were scarfless and hatless. The guy next to me was not only hatless, but bootless.
So if it’s any consolation for AMY, PELHAM, N.Y., I’d have to advise her, “Forget about it, mom. If your son had a million choices in outwear that was knee length or longer, he wouldn’t wear one anyway. Not even if he went to college in Russia.”
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