Thursday, January 22, 2009

In the Hood

My employer, Bob Closter, gave me a bag of stuff for Christmas. A bottle of red wine, some frozen steaks of the Omaha variety, a pair of wool mittens with fold back tops that reveal fingerless gloves, and an insulated hooded sweatshirt. I don't know why, exactly, but I haven't worn a hooded sweatshirt in more than a decade if not two. Maybe it's that under normal circumstances I'm more inclined to wear a hat and that having a hood flopping around on my back, unwanted and unused, is an annoyance. My last hooded sweatshirt dates back to Holy Cross. That was almost 20 years ago, and I don't think I wore it much back then either. I don't know if Bob gave anyone else a hoodie; I haven't noticed any new-looking sweatshirts around the job. Maybe he felt bad for me. Everyone else has probably a half dozen in their arsenal against the elements. Co-worker Kurt wears two at once. Now I don't know how I survived without one. (I do remember shingling our house in Brooklin in the middle of January wearing two wool hats.) Standing on a roof when it's blowing 20 and the wind chill's below zero, the hood goes up and work begins to approach tolerable. On a day like that I'm wearing bib overalls over fleece sweat pants, a work shirt with two layers underneath, a windblock vest, and, finally, the insulated hooded sweatshirt. And a hat. Only my fingertips really suffer, but if it's really bad I can always stow them in the sweatshirt pouch for a little relief.

1 comment:

Molly B Designs said...

I think it is really funny that your boss felt bad for you and bought you a hooded sweatshirt. hehehe