I'm feeling somewhat uninspired this week. Between the usual punishing June cycle of sunburns atop my sunburns, regardless of the presence of sunblock, I'm feeling logy. Funny how it is that a sunburn can completely pork your energy level.
I've been rereading the first few blog entries that I posted here at HAWSEPIPER a few years ago. I had deleted my old blog after my employer literally printed out every single page, something along the lines of 1000 entries, and forensically digested it for innuendo, which was then presented back to me as fact. It's an odd feeling, having your own work paraphrased and turned back on you.
Sort of a shame, though, that I've had shore access all weekend, with my truck parked within walking distance, but I'm more or less confined on board so that I can properly establish my reputation as the Great White Wino in Brazil next week, which apparently dies after all require some new duds for yours truly.
I spent an entertaining few minutes last night telling my wife exactly what I would and wouldn't wear regardless of what she bought for me to wear in Brazil. I am not partial to t-shirts, which is a new thing, but something that snuck up on me. I actually prefer some buttons on my shirt. Regardless, I will not wear a polo shirt that contains brown, orange or baby shit green, which, apparently, the rest of the world finds tre chic. I will not wear a banana hammock regardless of what I'm wearing over it. My Friends prefer larger quarters. I will not wear giant labels from the manufacturer on anything I wear, unless they pay me. I'm not a fucking billboard.
Anyhow, a popular Brazilian complaint is that relatively well-to-do Americans dress like hobos. When I explain that I am not a peacock, my wife sort of poo-poohs the discussion. Yet, there's an odd dichotomy. My wife wants me to dress in all the colors of a fudgecicle box, yet says that we don't want to call attention to myself and attract pickpockets. I say that making me look mentally retarded and/or colorblind is not the way to blend in.
This would be a great point to talk about cultural differences in how we prioritize and attempt at being perceived in a positive manner... but, sadly, I'm out of gas here. Friggin' sunburn.