Pockets

The duster has big pockets for leather work gloves, my monogrammed flask, 3 cigar case, tech stuff and a fairly thick paperback. My old olive green Banana Republic travel vest purchased from the old catalogue days still makes its rounds & has pockets galore with iPod replacing Sony Walkman, smart phone in lieu of calling card, and Birds Of North America Guide. The Orvis Fishing Vest, a 30th Birthday present has more pockets per square inch than all of the above and there’s a good fishing exaggeration in everyone. Can’t resist Cargo pants when hiking or tailgating for a granola bar or Swimsuit Edition of SI. My Swiss Army Knife and my Dad’s Switchblade stay around the man cave these days as they are not TSA friendly. The effects of the terrorists are far reaching. I like all the little pockets in my brain where I keep certain “thinks” that I can retrieve and for the time being safely store. When I see my aunt with Alzheimer’s it makes me want to cry. Like having a hole in your mind’s pocket.

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