Wednesday, August 22, 2012

The Tale of the Pink Suspenders


Working in the out-of-doors is part of the Suthun Experience. With the moderate climate, we've got the ability to work outdoors most of the year. Even with that, I find myself outdoors more in the summer than any other time.  Because of this, I have my 'work' ensemble for replacing roof shingles or for mowing or just for work in the heat of the summer.  This includes a pair of lightweight work shoes, carpenter pants, light tee shirt, and a sun hat (my good ol' hard-hat in the shape of a pith helmet.)

A problem has arisen in that in recent years, I've lost considerable weight.  I cinch the belt on my pants and head out but in no time, thanks to humidity and the sweat it brings, the pants are sliding down and I'm stopping every few seconds to pull them back up on my near-non-existent hips. (No comments about that, Bubba!)

Not too long ago, my wife bought me a nifty tool belt and the accompanying heavy suspenders to keep them up.  I got the great idea that a similar pair of suspenders might keep my pants up and allow me to keep working without having to yank up the aforementioned pants. Off to the closet I skip (ok, so maybe I didn't skip, but I did move jauntily and with purpose), remembering that I had several pair of suspenders hiding in my closet.  

Many years ago, I was in college and performed a lot on stage. For these performances, I had not one, or two, but FIVE full tuxedos, complete with bow ties, cummerbund and suspenders.  You can imagine my dismay when I discovered that I had only one set of suspenders left. Where the others have gone, only time knows.  And, this one pair? They are pink. Yeah, bright Pink. 

There is no way I'm going out in the heat wearing a pith helmet (I already have enough people snickering at that) and pink suspenders. Just thinking about it I can hear Neighbor Bubba guffawing down the street!   Then I remember the way in which denim seems to get a life of its own (as well as double in weight) in the humidity of the South.  Ok, I'll wear them, but I'll hide them UNDER my shirt.

So, now when Neighbor Bubba comes over to ask about my cats ("...you taught that SEE EM EEZ to fetch a beer yet?") I only have to be careful that he doesn't see or even suspect the suspenders carefully hidden below my work shirt.

Life in the South is getting complicated.


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