A morning of The Old School.

Yesterday morning. Got up. Had a couple little things to do.

Fired up the Miata in the driveway and let it warm up.

It was a clear, sunny day and as an Old School sportscar driver, the top stays down unless it is raining. I bought the car strictly for top down fun, and just because it's cold doesn't mean I don't take it out on a clear day.

Helmet and goggles time. Old School stuff. I donned my leather jacket, silk scarf, helmet and goggles and I was off to the barber shop for an Old School barbershop shave.

The barber slathered my face with hot foam and started working it into my beard with his fingertips for a while, next he covered my face with a hot towel and drove the steam deep into the shaving cream and pushed it deeper into my beard. This was followed by a re-lathering and then the steel appeared, a straight razor.

When the scraping was done, this was followed by anotheer somewhat cooler hot towel and a quick face massage and the application of Bay Rum.

Nothing like an Old School barbershop shave to start the day with.

Then came the unsuccessful chase to find a wool hunting shirt.

I tried all over hell to find a wool hunting shirt, starting with LL Bean at the mall.

The fact that I couldn't find one anywhere means little compared to the hassle of having to deal with salespeople that try their damnedest to sell me EXACTLY what I am NOT looking for.

It got old fast.

Abercrombie and Fitch used to be an outfitter. A place you could enter in street clothing and leave looking like you were going to Arrica to shoot an elephant, but no more.

Entering Abercrombie and Fitch is like entering a Bangkok whorehouse, with dark lights, loud music and incense burning. I kept looking around for a bunch a petite asian women in scanty lingerie to come out of the woodwork and line up for me.

LL Bean let me down fast, and I got a lecturee there about how wool is obselete and old fashioned and not as warm as the new stuff. I shot back that all the new stuff is fine until you get it wet. Then you remove your right boot, put your big toe in the trigger guard and the muzzle in your mouth and end it because it's whole lot better going that way rather than freezing to death.

With wool, you wring it out and put it back on. Wet wool holds heat.

Funny how many so-called outdoor clothing salesman don't know that little piece of Old School lore.

Anyway, I wound up ordering the shirt on line. I ordered two, actually. If I ordered two, I got free shipping and a price break, so the second one was cheap enough to make it worth getting.

Now I have a pair off Old School shirts coming, which is pretty neat.

I think that tonight I'll fire up the old Ocean Hopper radio and comb the airwaves for a little European entertainment. What would be cool is to hear the North Korean station spout off with their special brand of 'Yankee dog, Imperialist pig' propaganda. That kind of stuff is getting pretty hard to find these days.

I'll tell you how I make out tomorrow.