my father: fashion victim

I picked my parents up from the airport on Friday afternoon. As one might expect, these southern Californians were ill-dressed for the cold Minnesota weather. My father, in particular, was feeling it--shorts are far from appropriate when it's 22F outside.

I quickly discovered that other than the suit he brought for church attendance, my dad had only brought a few pairs of shorts and a pair of Gore-Tex snow pants he had just purchased with him. Now, I don't know about you, but I personally don't think that snow pants are appropriate anywhere except on a mountain...like, when you're skiing. My dad doesn't ski. He doesn't snowshoe. He doesn't even live in a place where it snows. I think he just thought those Gore-Tex pants were really cool. After all, how many pairs of pants does a person typically own that can repel water?

When he came downstairs on Saturday morning, he was wearing the snow pants. It had snowed a little the night before, so I think he was excited to try out his new gear. One of our stops that day was the outlet shops in Albertville, and maybe the snow pants helped keep him warm--it is, after all, pretty windy whenever I go there. I don't know.

The last stop of the day was supposed to be a nice restaurant. It was his birthday yesterday, so we were taking him to dinner on Saturday night to celebrate. The snow pants made "nice restaurant" a bit of a problem, though. He had gotten excited about the long list of restaurants I had rattled off earlier that day, but his enthusiasm was later destroyed when I narrowed the list of places where he wouldn't feel uncomfortable wearing snow pants to Famous Dave's, the Chinese buffet near my house, and the buffet at nearby Mystic Lake Casino. We ended up going to the casino, and I think he felt right at home (gambling, alcohol and cigarette smoke aside, of course) with all the other freaks that were in there.

The snow pants aren't the only questionable choice in fashion that my dad has made over the years. There were the acid-washed jeans that he wore well into the 90's. Then there were the black jeans that he wore, but typically only if he could dress entirely in black. Since he wouldn't let me get a black suit when I was a kid ("only the mafia wear black suits"), I found this to be an odd choice. And then there were the times that he and my mom would wear matching outfits--typically some kind of t-shirt with jeans. I've rarely felt more embarrassed to be associated with someone. Anyone.

My father: a true original and one heckuva cool guy.