In defense of the hoodie

Anyone who knows me well will verify that I care more about function than form or fashion.

There’s been a lot of conversation about “hoodie politics” in the wake of the shooting death of Trayvon Martin a couple of months back. e.g.
Trayvon Martin and Racist Violence in Post-Racial America
Did Occupy co-opt the Million Hoodie March?
Rep. Bobby Rush kicked out of the House for speaking on racial profiling wearing a hoodie, though it’s OK to wear in the New York State Assembly. Did you know Congress considers a hoodie a hat?

Comparative little has been said about the fact that hoodies are really quite functional.

I have a hoodie. It’s green (of course) with gold and white letters from UNC Charlotte, the 49ers. It was given to me by my late, sainted mother, who was no gangbanger, and probably didn’t know what the term meant. She thought it would keep her firstborn warm, and it does.

During that preternaturally mild March 2012, I managed to misplace my knit hats. And I need, NEED a hat to keep warm, with this hairline, which I had since I was in my 20s; that caricature duck was drawn when I was 28. The temperature dropped like a stone late in the month, from highs in the 70sF (low 20s C) to the 30sF (low single digits C), and all I could find were some caps, which would have been inadequate for the task, and my hoodie. So I wore the latter.

Unlike the knit hat, the hoodie also keeps my neck warm, without additional apparel, such as a scarf. Anyone who knows me well will verify that I care more about function than form or fashion. Wearing the hoodie keeps me from shivering. No political agenda; my hoodie is just sheltering from the cold and the wind.

The Lydster, Part 93: Line of Scrimmage

The thing that makes getting the Daughter dressed in the morning or evening take so long is her need to first throw her clothes past me. I believe this started innocently enough, with her teasing me by tossing her apparel for the day just out of my reach. But now it is codified, with all sorts of rules about where we each stand and what the goal is. I must say that the principles are fungible, but that the rules seemingly always favor her; of course, she SETS the rules, so there you are.

I have instituted the concept of punting the clothes, too. I’m really good at it, but she’s getting better.

Sometimes, when it’s taking too long, each of us catching the other’s tosses, I’ve been known to intentionally miss, not to soothe her ego, but because of lack of time. She always wins anyway, so it’s no big whoop.

In general, though we’re standing in the hallway. She holds the clothes and gets a point if she gets them past me. Neither one of us, though, can pass the line of scrimmage when we toss. “Line of scrimmage” is a phrase she learned playing football in gym class, not her sitting with me and watching football with me. Still, the fact that she knows the phrase, and the basic concepts, makes me happy, because, if/when she DOES want to watch a televised game with me, she’ll have a fundamental part down pat.

Somewhere I read that it is good for fathers and daughters to have games they can play with each other; this is ours. (Along with SORRY, UNO…)

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