I've been thinking about buying a jean jacket lately.
The problem is I've also decided, for the first time ever, to see if I can grow a beard. I've always told people that I'm genetically incapable of growing significant facial hair, in much the same way that trees are genetically incapable of growing legs and becoming champion breakdancers, but in all honesty, I've never tried.
So I'm going to attempt to get all beardy. If the geometry of my facial hair approximates my dad's, this will be a futile and hilarious failure. His beard always comes in patchy and ragged, the sort of beard that other beards assign to a leper colony so they don't have to look at it.
Other members of the extended family have glorious beards and I hope mine takes after them. Again, no idea what my face will turn into. I may grow tentacles on my chin, which I will use to devour the unfaithful as the stars align and Elder Gods walk the Earth again. Who knows what blasphemous secrets my attempt at growing facial hair will reveal?
But the beard does make other fashion choices problematic. I've always had a love for three unfortunate fashion items. You can tell I'm a writer because if I'm going to make a list, I'm going to put three things in it, no more, no less. But in this case, the number of items is genuine and not at all related to mild writerly-OCD:
1. The aforementioned jean jacket. Without the beard, people will assume I have poor taste or that I'm from Canada. With the beard? Hipster. I'll probably have to wander around, telling people about my vinyl collection and how my favorite band--who you've never heard of--only releases on cassette these days.
2. Flannel. I love flannel. It's been long enough I can wear it now without being accused of being a grunge rocker but wearing flannel when you have a beard? Suddenly you're a lumberjack.
3. Trench coats. There's no way to defend these things, beard or non-beard. If you have a beard and you wear a trench coat, you'll look like the sort of guy who should also be wearing a fedora and larping Vampire: the Masquerade. But they're really practical and completely awesome in winter. They let you sit down in your car without getting your butt wet from any snow that's slipped in.
This is what it must be like to grow old.
I can see the path before me and it is greased with compromises.
I concede on the beard.
Then I decide that I don't care what people think about my denim jacket.
And then I decide to only wear really comfortable pants.
Next thing I know, I'm that old dude wearing suspenders and a bow tie, because gosh darn it, bow ties were really great back when Boxcar Willie was the up-and-coming feller on the honky-tonk circuit.
Actually, that sounds pretty awesome.
Been cranking out that Clone story, at a pretty solid clip. About 800 words per day. I figure I'm about halfway done. Then, the next book.
Totals: 527, 664, 849, 859, 709, 795 and 531.