Tag: fashion

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Find Me A Baseball Cap

The other day I wrote a bit of an angry screed. I’ve been a bit under the weather, cooped up and under house quarantine. 48 hours of fever and non-stop reading of the internet and… well, I got a little fired up. But then I stumbled upon some advice from Jen Psaki about managing anger and stress. She counseled Americans to go to a kickboxing class and have a margarita to get over their anger. Well by golly, you know what? It works! It was just like the Oracle told Neo in the Matrix, “Here. Take a cookie. I promise, by the time you’re done eating it, you’ll feel right as rain.” Happy Monday everyone, I’m ready to take on a new day!

What better way to start a new week and new year than by cultivating a new look? Don’t worry, I’m not going to do the bored housewife cuts all their hair off in a cute bob thing… my hair’s already short. (sidebar, women please don’t cut your hair short. Unless you weigh approximately 105 pounds, it doesn’t work. Trust me on this. Just like men wearing speedos, only about .001% of the population can pull this look off) There’s not much I can do hair-wise. I tried long and unfortunately it did not, in fact, make me look like Brad Pitt. My only other option is shaving my head, but I’m saving that for the angry old man, get off my lawn phase. So, what to do now?

Mrs Troutdog and I were watching the Mexican Narcos series on Netflix last night and out of the blue she says, “have you ever had sideburns?” Hmmm. That’s a twist I hadn’t thought of. I’ve tried a beard once and quickly realized the best I can do is a sad, scraggly, hipster looking thing, so that’s out. My current look is a three-day stubble that’s supposed to convey a rugged, Carhartt wearing, George Clooney, manliness vibe – but pretty much just looks like I was too lazy to shave (which is also true). Sideburns though, I might be able to pull that off with a bit of combover (combdown?) action. I don’t know if I should be jealous that she was looking at a sexy, Mexican, cartel boss when she mentioned it, but I’ll go with it. He also had a goatee, so I’ve decided that’s going to be the new look. A 80’s era long sideburn and goatee vibe. I wonder if I could also pull off a Snidely Whiplash waxed and twirled mustache? (serious bonus points if you remember who that is)

Since I’m challenged in the facial hair department, the new look should be ready by August. Perhaps I should take a picture a day and post it on Twitter? Knowing social media, I’d probably gain about a million followers and end up being some sort of famous influencer for beard and mustache products. I’m kind of a private guy, so I guess we’ll hold off on that.

Since this has devolved into a fashion blog, my other current crisis is that I can’t find a ball cap I like. I wear a ball cap at least seven days a week. My hair is usually uncooperative at best, so throwing on a hat is just easier. I’ve always had a large collection of ball caps to suit my mood, but as time goes on, they fray, fall apart, get eaten by the dog, and generally become nasty and unwearable. One by one my hat collection has dwindled to the point that I’m down to a final hat. I used to find hats I liked everywhere. I bought ’em all the time on vacations, I’d spot one in a storefront, freebies at tradeshows, etc… Lately I can’t seem to find one that looks right. This is a serious issue.

I can’t put my finger on it, but every hat I try on just doesn’t look right. I’ve bought three just in the last few months and there’s something just a bit, off, about all of them. The dog got to my last good hat, so it now has a big tear in the side. This is no longer a laughing matter. I need to find a hat I like. But then again, perhaps the problem isn’t the hat? Maybe it’s that as a middle-aged man who will soon be sporting a dashing set of sideburns and devastatingly handsome goatee… I no longer need to be wearing ball cap?

After all, did you ever see James Bond (I’m talking Sean Connery/Daniel Craig. Don’t even come at me with that Roger Moore nonsense, bro) wearing a ball cap? I think not. Perhaps it’s time to embrace my age and show a little sophistication? Maybe that will be part of the new year, new me look. No more ball caps. Stay tuned.

P.S. if you know of any sources for good ball caps, hit me up. Money is no object. No flat billed gangster hats. Unless they’re going to sponsor me, I’m not crazy about advertising for Nike, Titleist, or other big franchises. Trucker style is just eh. Prefer Velcro adjustable over sized hats. Six panel, not five. Wait, maybe the real problem is that I’ve gotten so picky, the perfect hat doesn’t actually exist anymore? Sigh. The struggle is real.

Cool, Daily Life, Motivation

Performance Anxiety

I have performance anxiety. Wait, that sounded bad. Not that kind of performance anxiety… I mean with sports. I could never be an Olympian or compete in some sort of professional sport. Aside from having to be talented, coordinated, and possessing athletic skill, those folks tend not to choke when it matters. I don’t have that ability.

Take golf for example. Golf seems to be my nemesis for some reason. I have a weird golf dyslexia that I can’t seem to get past. Despite a frightening amount of money spent on the driving range, lessons, and clubs, I still just don’t get it. I have zero confidence that when I step up to the tee, I’ll be able to hit the ball. As a result I hate the first hole. As in, I actually get butterflies in my stomach walking up to tee off. It makes no difference if I’ve warmed up on the range or not. All I can think of in my head is “don’t screw up, don’t screw up”. It happened just the other day. Mrs Troutdog and I were playing and got partnered with a 12 year old kid. He hit a beautiful drive that went a country mile. I stepped up and… chunked it about 10 feet. I set up to hit another… and chunked it about 10 feet. Sigh.

I know that half the problem is that I’ve gotten into my own head over this. I know I’m creating a self-fulfilling prophecy by obsessing over it. I just don’t know how to get past it. Mrs Troutdog laughs at me and says I shouldn’t care. We’re just out to have fun, it’s not like we’re trying to turn pro or impress anyone. She’s right. But I hate being bad at things, especially in front of strangers.

Maybe it’s a guy thing? I’m ok being bad when I’m a complete beginner. I’ve never been waterskiing. I would be really bad at it initially and that would be expected. But at some point you want to move up to being at least average. Especially if you’ve purchased all the expensive gear. Nobody wants to be a poser. Maybe that’s where my issues started? When I was young I did a lot of surfing. In the surfing tribe it was critical to fit in (or maybe it was just a teenage thing). You could always spot a poser. They’d have brand new expensive wetsuits and boards, yet were complete kooks in the water. As kids are prone to do, we mercilessly made fun of those guys.

That desire to fit in with the tribe as a kid probably left an indelible imprint that’s lingered into middle age. I desperately don’t want to be that guy who has all the expensive gear but not be able to walk the walk. Reminds me of a great old movie, “Man’s Favorite Sport?” staring Rock Hudson. The main character is a famous fishing guide who’s written books on the subject. Turns out he’s never actually been fishing. His boss enters him in a fishing contest and hilarity ensues.

With things like skiing and mountain biking, I’m comfortably average. I can reasonably ride most any terrain and know exactly what my fitness and skill limitations are. Even if I don’t know you, I’d happily go for a ride if you ask and be confident that I won’t embarrass myself. Ask me to play golf and I’ll spend twenty minutes making excuses. I hurt my back. Haven’t played since last year. I used to play years ago, but am just now taking it up again. Anything to cover for the inevitable flubbing on the first tee.

It’s silly, isn’t it? I’m a grown-ass man. Am I really so vain at this point in my life that I’d care about what you think of my golf ability? Apparently so. And I hate myself for even caring about it. I should strive to be Rodney Dangerfield’s Al Czervik character in the movie Caddyshack. Loud, flamboyant, every golf gadget available, yet was hopeless at golf. He didn’t care what anyone thought because he was having fun.

Maybe that’s the ticket to busting through this weird anxiety I have? A form of de-sensitivity training. Perhaps I should go buy the most outrageous plaid golf pants I can find and wear an obnoxious Hawaiian shirt. Add some sort of ridiculous hat, tee up a bright pink ball on a naked lady tee and let’r rip. Maybe by going over the top and pretending I really don’t care what you think, I’ll convince myself that people actually really don’t care if I can hit the ball or not. Maybe. I’m just not sure Mrs Troutdog will still play golf with me dressed like that.

Cool, Daily Life, Health, Travel

A Sacrificial Offering
  • I’ve clearly managed to piss off someone, I’m just not sure who. We’ve had a pretty crappy spring, weather-wise. Cold, rain, and a ridiculous amount of wind. I hate the wind. It’s been windy virtually every day for what seems like months. And not just “breezy” wind, but 20-30 mile an hour winds in the afternoon. Being on a bike or motorcycle in that sort of wind just saps the fun out of everything. I spent too much time this morning trying to figure out what gods I need to appease. Being of Swedish heritage, naturally I first turned to the Norse god Njoror, but his background is really complicated and he leans towards providing wind for sailors. The Aztec god Cihuatecayotl is the god of the west wind, so he seems like a good candidate. Plus, the Aztecs were into the whole sacrifice thing. I haven’t looked into it extensively, but unfortunately I suspect sacrifices are frowned upon in our neighborhood covenants. Perhaps I can just go with a Sopranos style payoff. Meet some intermediary god at a park bench and slip him an envelope. Anyone know the going rate for 3-4 weeks with no wind?
  • I haven’t written much lately. My outrage reservoir overfilled and shorted out the main circuit board. I’ll read and watch the news, feel my outrage temperature rising, sit down to write (vent), and boom, it simply shuts off. I’ll be filled with an overwhelming feeling that there’s simply no point in writing or even thinking about the outrage of the day. I’m not sure if it’s apathy, sensory overload, or just interested in other things, but it’s been hard to figure out what, if anything, I want to write about. I think staying away from nonstop outrage and contrarian thinking may be a healthier choice. Life is too short to sacrifice many brain cycles to crap we can’t do anything about anyway.
  • The travel plans on the ginormous motorcycle have been stalled for multiple reasons. One is weather (see wind rant). Another has been parts outfitting. We’re almost done there. The last piece has been luggage. The bags I ordered were on backorder, but supposedly would be available again at the beginning of this month. I contacted them a week ago and they said another 7-10 days. Fingers crossed. The luggage delay did work out because the bike was due for it’s first service, and due to our massive influx in population, the shop was booked out a month. I finally got that done yesterday, so the bike is good to go. The delay also let me work on improving my riding skills confidence. I’ve spent some time in the dirt now and am really starting to feel better. Now I just have to actually commit to my first trip.
  • A myriad of health issues have plagued me lately, which I will detail for you in excruciating detail at another time. One of them however deserves a special mention because it illustrates how dorky I really am. I developed a neuroma on my foot, which causes a sharp, hot poker stabbing sensation when I run, play golf, etc… I got desperate enough to consult Dr’s Google and YouTube for my diagnosis and treatment. I believe that the root cause was years of shoes that were too small and had too narrow of a toe box. My toes are all janky, overlapping, and I have terrible bunions. The non-surgical solution is something called toe spreaders worn in shoes that look suspiciously like Ronald McDonald clown feet. I’ve been wearing them for a week and so far the neuroma seems to be a bit better. So my only real complaint is one of fashion. Google “natural toe box shoe” and see what comes up. Why do all minimalist and natural fitting shoes have to be so ungodly ugly? Sigh.
  • I got kicked at work the other day. We had a patient who went absolutely batshit crazy (drugs and untreated psych issues) and had to be restrained. We got the patient tied down and I went back to my patients. I got a call a while later to come help and sure enough this patient had managed to get out of all but one restraint. We had about eight people in the room waiting for security to arrive, while the patient frantically tried to get the remaining restraint off. I started getting worried what would happen if he got free and started running amuck in the room. So each time he reached over to try and undo the restraint I’d reach in and move his hand. Every time I did that he’d screech and try to bite me. We did that five or six times until the next time I started to reach in he gave a lightning fast roundhouse kick. I jumped back, but my cat-like reflexes have slowed a bit in my old age. He caught me on my upper thigh. Grrrr. Security arrived and we swarmed him, multiple people on each limb and got restraints reapplied. Funny, I don’t remember reading this chapter in school. I must have been out that day. I’m not sure what was worse, the kick or the amount of paperwork and interviews that had to be done afterwards.
  • An ode to trying new things.

Song of the day: R.E.M. – Shiny Happy People (Official Music Video) I never realized that Kate Pierson of the B-52’s collaborated on this.

Cool, Daily Life, Solving the wrong problem

An Unprecedented Storm
  • The media is garbage. They churn out crap with sensationalist headlines and most people simply read it and assume it’s true. With much of the country encased in some pretty cold temps there’s been plenty of attention on Texas, who’s electrical grid has spectacularly failed. Headline after headline proclaims Houston is being hit with an unprecedented storm. If journalists employed the internet search skills of your average twelve year old, they’d discover there’s nothing “unprecedented” about this. Valentines day, 1895, Houston was hit with 22″ of snow. So, yeah, it’s happened before. Multiple times. Apparently the dictionary definition of unprecedented has changed. I understand you need over the top headlines to sell the modern equivalent of newspapers. I’m ok with that. It used to be if newspapers went too far down the sensationalist road too often, they’d be lumped in with the “weekly world news” tabloids. Today there seems to be no shame in baseless propaganda. I wouldn’t really care except that I guarantee you it won’t be long before our new climate czars will start lumping in the “unprecedented winter storms” with all the other ridiculous and false claims of record hurricanes, rising sea levels, and record wildfires as evidence of rapid acceleration of global warming (sorry, “climate change”). And that false narrative is being used to shut down the fossil fuel industries and funnel billions upon billions of newly printed dollars to more “green energy” boondoggles. Hey, I have no problem with trying to come up alternative sources of energy. But snow covered solar panels and frozen windmills isn’t it. Meanwhile, in 2020 China built over three times as much new coal power capacity as all other countries in the world combined – the equivalent of more than one large coal plant per week. In addition, over 73 gigawatts of new coal power projects were initiated in China, five times as much as in all other countries. China and India do not give a crap about the Paris Climate Treaty. While we watch people in Texas dying from carbon monoxide poisoning trying keep warm, China is eventually going to kick our asses. We have a clean, safe, and reliable source of green energy already. It’s called nuclear. Our failure to embrace it is going to come back to haunt us when it’s too late. Meanwhile, I’m going to go enjoy some powder skiing for the next week in the several feet of global warming expected to fall in our mountains.
  • Meanwhile, lets check in on how mask mandates vs no mandates work. Looking at that chart I’d say mask mandates had no impact on Covid, but then I’d be labeled a denier. Therefore I fully embrace the new CDC policy of encouraging double masking. Oh wait, you told us any face covering works to block viruses? Now I have to wear two? This almost sounds like a face covering doesn’t really work. I’m so confused. It’s almost like the only face covering that actually blocks viruses is, oh I don’t know, a properly worn and fit tested N95 respirator?
  • Speaking of media as garbage, this piece by Glenn Greenwald is excellent. It’s disturbing how easy it is to sensationalize the chaotic initial “reporting” of an event and turn it into an accepted narrative. Again, I wouldn’t really care except that the false narrative is going to be used to implement new Patriot Act type laws giving the federal government broader reaching scope to collect data, spy, and enact further domestic restrictions. Much of the capital region of Washington DC is still a militarized green zone. Why?
  • On a recommendation from several friends, I signed up for MasterClass to get me some more learn’n in my head. With my soon-to-be increased free time (only one more full time shift to go!) I figure I may as well be productive. I just started my first class and so far I’m enjoying it.
  • With the fancy new motorcycle sitting in the garage, due to the unprecedented global warming that’s fallen in our area lately, I also needed a new riding suit. I’m big believer in ATGATT (all the gear, all the time). My previous motorcycle armor is from an earlier century and Mrs Troutdog has been on me to wear something a bit more modern. Once my standard 5,000 hours of YouTube research was done and I settled on which brand/model I was going to get, all that was left was what color? I had to laugh at myself. At my age I still find that I’m somewhat vain like a high school kid worried about how something “looks”. My new bike is mostly white. The outfit color I happened to like the most, and will be the coolest in the summer, is a very light grey. I was worried about looking a bit too much like a vintage Evil Knievel or Fat Elvis and almost ordered a green color I didn’t like, simply because I was concerned what people may think. Fortunately I’m old enough and (somewhat) mature enough to realize that A) nobody gives a shit what I look like, and B) I really don’t give a shit anymore what people think. I wish I’d learned that sort of confidence when I was younger. Peer pressure and the need to conform is a very human trait, but also a very destructive one (see global warming, mask wearing, woke culture, etc…). So, if you see a Fat Elvis looking guy riding down the street on a ginormous red white and blue bike, give me a wave and a big thumbs up. It’s good for my fragile ego.

Song of the day: Elvis Presley – A Little Less Conversation (original)