Yesterday I traded in my puffy coat and survival gear for a wool trench coat with New York on the label but made in China.
I gave up my bunny boots for a pair of leather Kenneth Cole dress boots made in Italy.
What you wear is a reflection of your personality, after all.
And yet this concept confuses me.
I’m now one of thousands of men walking the streets of Chicago wearing a wool tench coat over a dress shirt and slacks and walking around in Italian-leather shoes.
To borrow a term, though I know not from where, I’ve blended in.
It’s funny how in leaving Alaska, you leave with the best souvenir the world has ever known. The ability to talk about having lived in Alaska.
“What part of Alaska did you live in?”
Definitely my favorite question.
My answer: Alaska is not like California. You don’t have a Los Angeles, San Diego, San Francisco or Sacramento and a million other points in between.
In Alaska, you have Anchorage and everything else. Also known as Anchorage and the real Alaska.
Our three years in Montana gave us good prep for Alaska.
Sparse, wide-open country with individualist people inhabiting it loosely.
We moved in winter and spent our money on smart winter coats, gloves hats and boots and some cross-country skis for good measure.
Within a few weeks, we fit in, at least in our own heads. Blended, as it were, with other Alaskans.
Though we were given away for Several months for the way in which we said Lower-48 instead of Outside and snow mobile instead of snow machine.
We moved to Chicago in the summer, so we had only to strip down a bit to fit in.
We should’ve bought Sox shirts to wear around our south side home, but we like the Giants.
Today as I walked from the train at Union Station surrounded by a mass of humanity, my leather-soled shoes clip clopping on the cement, and my coat swishing around my knees, I was reminded about permanence yet again, and how I tend to flee from it.
Necessity might be the mother of invention, but wanderlust is the father of re-invention. I’ve had it bad in my life. Lusting after new experiences and new vistas, wearing new hats and coats as if I belonged to one land or another, when in truth, my heart did not belong to any one place. Never has. I doubt it ever will.
On Thursday I head to New York City.