The Hobo I am Becoming…

I mean seriously have you seen me lately? I'm becoming more and more pathetic in my appearance. True, I know I should work on this and I could work on this if I really cared but essentially I do not care I don't know if I really ever did , care about what I really look like. I think I've rehearsed part of my philosophy over the many postings to this blog I've published. I just wonder look like the other kids but I sewed learned early that was never going to happen not with my families financial status, the amount kids in this family and the philosophical concept that if your coverage are okay. We shopped at Sears, reuse the layaway concept as a survival tool and my parents had an undying belief that brand names was a capitalistic tool to keep the main population impoverished. We survived on layaway, garage sales and secondhand stores likeDeseret industries. I must give my mother credit she was excellent at finding great pieces of clothing that others have discarded. I remember one year I actually scored a pair of tennis shoes that kind of look like everybody else's! I walked those shoes to death broke my heart when the last fabrics gave way and the shoes fell apart.

I think the last two or three years I have finally come to the point of possibly purchasing my clothes and they even somewhat fit. Not that I'm really buying any clothes but I'm trying. I kind of think my mom outfitted me even when I moved out of the house until I got married and then from that point forward my wives did. Now I do and I really feel I should have been doing this all along. I've had to learn so much. However, the interest in my appearances arched and I think I am on the way down. I am now wearing shorts year-round as I mentioned yesterday during the rainstorm. I usually keep jackets that I wear that need to be buttoned or zipped buttoned or zipped so I just pulled them over my head like a shirt. I don't wear socks when I wear shoes in the blankets I wear over my legs at least in the winter gives me a modicum, of modesty and I think this works have not been arrested yet are asked to leave the apartments. Sadly, I begin to work the phrase “… The hobo I'm becoming” into my lexicon and so far brings pretty good laugh to those that hear. I must be careful not to over use the phrase that seems to fit the occasion so accurately. It's like that's what is left for old men, I been looking around as I get around, oversized clothes, belted trousers up around your tits, no socks and in my case no underwear and shirts that ride up on my stomach most the time and neck all droopy. I look pathetic, I look embarrassing… like the hobo I am becoming.