Sweltering summer weekends are meant for reading the Times while tucked beneath an umbrella near the shore, a Pimm’s pitcher or two in the early afternoon, and needed preparation for what is certain to be an autumn of revelry and good cheer. No, I did not devote this past weekend to shining my great Uncle Hugh’s silver-plated, monogrammed cocktail shaker that he left me (along with his well-worn copy of Robert’s Rules of Order which actually does come in handy to move things along while serving on committees for various charities) readying myself for tailgating through yet another season of intercollegiate football mediocrity.
I did, however, pull out the Barbour jackets and the oilskin dressing in order to reproof them before the evenings turn crisp enough to don the Barbours for a stroll full of memories along the stone walls of alma mater.
There actually is rhyme and reason to the annual ritual of reproofing your Barbour on a blistery summer day – the wax must be warm to best adhere to the oilskin material of your jacket.
So, I began the reproofing process by turning to WNYC to listen to my favorite radio show – Jonathan Schwartz – and his well-considered selections from the American songbook. Then, to make my wife happy, I grabbed an old T-shirt from one of the sorority formals I attended in days of yore (she’s trying to get rid of all of them!), and I laid the jacket out on the kitchen counter. I used the T-shirt to apply the wax evenly over the oilskin portion of the jacket – this actually takes much longer than you’d think (assume you'll have time to polish off two Pimm’s cups for good measure).
The stifling heat du soleil de l’été works its magic by melding together the wax and the oilskin to reproof the jacket providing you ease of mind that you’ll stay dry while beagling on a rainy October Saturday morn. So I take the jackets and hang them out in the sun for a good long while. A good long while indeed.
12 comments:
I don't believe any of these things happened. This is about as many WASP cliches and stereotypes put into a few paragraphs as could fit. Way to play to the audience, though.
Are you serious?
Can I be a guest blogger, Richard? I could put together a few overwrought sentences on expressing my hound's anal glands in preparation for the autumn foxery outings. I could even toss in a few exclamation points! (And some long parentheticals about my pretend genteel ancestors and their made-up ways or how the Ivy League isn't what it used to be or why vinyl siding is waspy.)
At least this scrivener can write the King's English..... in contrast to Richard's tortured and error laden prose.
I heard that Holly Madison broke it off with Hefner over you, Richard. Is this true?
"Brevity is the soul of wit."
Hamlet 2,2
@Anonymous & AP UHB you are one of the many tiresome bores on the internet that bloggers have to constantly here from! Just because you hate your lives don't take it out on Richard!
Richard on rewaxing Barbour jacket your readers would might like this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IvZm04LxrbQ
'Crawford' should submit this gem to The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, otherwise known as 'It was a dark and stormy night.....'
http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/
Well done, Crawford. I like it. Heating the wax is indeed the proper thing to do. I don't remember how we used to do it. With a lighter, or on the stove, or in a cosy coat pocket all day, I don't recall.
Richard, if you made a dollar every time some fat prat left derogatory comments on your blog, you'd be quite rich indeed.
Laguna, these pathetic wankers have the fortitude one could easily grip with their pinkie. At times, I feel sorry for them, so I at least let them get their jollies by telling me how to blog. One would think their would be an invasion of great blogs on the Internet since there is an overwhelming number of experts who comment here.
Richard, I will never tell you how to blog. I will, however, say that I think you're a fake. A wannabe with no pedigree. But, fake it 'til you make it, they say. Keep dreaming, Richie.
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