“I don’t know.”

“Me either. I don’t know if I should wear something dressy or should I go really casual.” “Are you taking a light jacket or a heavy one?”

“I think I am going to take one of each.”

“Me too! I just can’t decide.”

“Are you taking a green outfit or your blue one?”

“I think I may take both of them,”… and on and on and on the conversation went between my wife and my mother.

Finally one of them turned to me and asked me what I was wearing on the plane. I simply answered with one word: “clothes.” They kinda got mad at me.

We are planning a family trip. My wife and I are taking my mom on a trip toward the East Coast. They were sitting at our dining room table planning details of the trip when they got on the clothes thing. I have never understood the need to coordinate clothes with other people.

Can you imagine if I called one of my male friends and starting asking them about what clothes they were wearing somewhere?

“Hey Keith, I’m wearing my blue shirt and black jeans. Do you have anything that will match mine?”

“Buddy, I’m parting my hair on the right side tonight. Can you part yours, too, on the same side so we can look like we match?”

How do you think these guys would take that? They would think I flipped my fizzy if I started asking them to coordinate their clothes.

“Justin, I’m wearing my plaid walking shorts with my pink shirt. Why don’t you get yours so we can match?” (NO! We do not own plaid walking shorts with pink shirts!) Geeze!

How silly does that sound? But everyday across America women are having conversations with each other about making sure their clothes match, the shoes, the hair, etc. Just give me some clothes that cover the necessary parts and I’m ready to go.

My wife gets upset at me sometimes because I will wear old wrinkled clothes when I go to town. If I am headed to the lumber yard I could care less about my wrinkled shirt. The way I figure it, I will be so hot and sweaty by the time I get there it will be wrinkle-free anyhow!

I mean, what man goes to the hardware store and checks out other guys’ clothes? Not anybody I know! Now granted, if he is extra, extra dirty he gets bonus points because he must have had a good day of hard work, but if I see a guy walking around with pressed pants and a pressed shirt that matches the little sweat rag around his head, I kinda stay away from him ’cause he may have cooties!

It is part of the neighborhood tradition to work outside as unmatched and as un-kept as possible. Between me, my brother and brother-in-law, we do a good job of making sure our clothing does not match. Larry has shown his lack of clothing abilities a few times, too.

Well, in just a few days we are about to depart the soil of Texas to other lands and I am looking forward to the trip. Speaking of other lands, we all know that even though North Texas is on Texas soil, it takes several hours to travel from north to south.

I was recently visited by two ladies from North Texas. They were in my office on business. It was my first introduction to them and when we first began our conversations, they were a little reserved trying to figure out my personality. It didn’t take them long to find out that I am a pretty laid back, easy to get along with kind of guy.

As our visit progressed, we soon began exchanging information about each other and our lives and the business matter became secondary. Their personalities sold their company.

A few days after their departure one of them wrote me back with a funny story. I really don’t feel comfortable with giving their names because they don’t know that I am sharing this with you, but they had a funny experience on their flight home. My details may be a little off, but you will still get the jest of the story.

Somehow, someway a drink got spilled in one of their purses while on the plane. Of course, there is only so much you can do while on a flight to clean things up. Once they landed, they made their way to the ladies room. As the lady with the wet purse began to dig around in the bottom of the purse, she had forgotten that the day before she had placed two large cookies in her purse for a snack. As she reached into the bottom of the purse, she felt this nasty, gooey blob of mess. She was going to throw it away, but the trash can was so full of trash, anything deposited in the can naturally laid on top for all to see.

Imagine for a moment if you walked into a restroom and saw a woman digging brown gooey stuff out of the bottom of her purse with her hand! Of course if you put the words brown, soft and gooey all into one thought pattern inside a restroom you can only assume one thing.

Other women entering the restroom walked circles around her to stay away. Her friend was laughing so hard that she abandoned her and left her to her own “mess.”

Clifford

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