Acid-Washed Jeans

Sometime between 1991 and 1994, while working as a parts driver for Norwest Automotive, I picked up a used car battery from one of our customers. I didn't think anything of it in the moment; I'd picked up used parts for disposal several times already, and this was just one more instance. 

But a couple of hours later, I noticed that my bluejeans were developing white patches in odd places, starting just below my pelvis. Over the course of the day, those white patches spread and the miscoloured denim thinned, By the time I returned home, my pants had developed huge rends, tears and gaps, disintegrating almost entirely into scraps not long after I removed my shoes. 

I figured that the battery must have cracked and leaked some mildly corrosive form of acid down my pants. Certainly my legs were quite itchy by the end of the day, and they'd taken on a slightly pinkish hue. A thorough scrubbing in the shower relieved those symptoms. 

I had occasion to tell Mom and Sean this story tonight; credit goes to Sean for coming up with the perfect title for this post. 

Lace-Up Socks

If yesterday's fashion proposal didn't impress, here's something Bing came up with while I was attempting to create my dynamic combo of ankle socks and sweat bands. 

Behold lace-up socks! 
 

Angling for Ankle Fashion

Tonight, Sean and Sylvia were visiting; the topic of ankle socks came up. I don't like ankle socks, because they make my ankles feel naked. I proposed a new fashion trend for people like me: wear ankle sweat bands above your ankle socks. 

Bing's image generator failed to capture my vision, but it's easy enough to image. It could be the biggest thing since leg warmers! 
 

The Dirty Denim Half Dozen

Blue jeans
I just painted six small blue jeans
Blue jeans
They come in three shades of blue and they're all right
Oh, blue jeans
I painted miniature blue jeans

I got a dry brush out
I kept my hands steady

Sometimes I squint when
(Oh, when I just can't see)
Painting these blue jeans
(Oh, I'll paint the shirts blue too)
Blue jeans frustrate me
(Oh, they can frustrate me)
Somebody save me
(Oh, somebody save me)

One day
I'm gonna paint a figure that's just splendid
One day
Everyone will love how it's rendered
Remember everybody has to practice hard
Oh, look out Earl, you know you've got time

 

Gil Sleeps Not

What They Sent Me

It was only a couple of years ago that I supported the crowdfunded Deep Space Nine documentary, What We Left Behind. Months and months ago they sent me these cool pins as thanks for my support. The movie turned out great, and my name is in the credits as a supporter. 

Tarnished Buckle

Today Sylvia and I spent some time going through my closet to set aside clothes I'm finally forced to admit I'll never wear again. Among those items was the movie-era Star Trek costume made for me by one of the member of the Edmonton Star Trek Society. I kept the belt buckle (pictured), and the rank insignia. The uniform itself will, I hope, find a better home. 

Earl's Hat

Behold baby Earl
In a hat of stylish cut
Captured as the photons whirl
Head inside a cotton hut

Baby Earl, heedless of fate
Not yet fat from dinner plate
Some 50 years will ebb and flow
Until this photo on Earl's blog goes

A Hawaiian Shirt in Manitoba

Behold the tent that Sean put up
That Earl showcases here
A tent one size bigger than pup
2009 the year

Mere hours hence poor Sean will face
A mattress leaking out its air
Sean sinking to the hard Earth where
Stone rocks appeared in painful place

Grumbling Sean rose up 'fore dawn
And pancakes cooked upon the lawn
Earl tried to help in his own way
By snapping photos through the day

In later days stone-injured Sean
Would seize chance for revenge
Stuffing mattress in the trash
For giving him the bends

Summer Clothes

On the Batwalk

Formal Work Costume

White poofy shirt
Black bell bottoms
Black belt with gold "E" buckle
Pirate boots
Black cape with gold trim

I think I could wear this to work as technically it is more formal than the dress code...

The Spokespeople

That's me on the left, pointing at whoever shot this photo of me and two of my fellow delegates to the 1987 Forum for Young Canadians in Ottawa. I can't believe I willingly dressed in a suit for most of this week-long event. Being thin helped. 

Another Birthday for Mom

Mom is still going strong in her retirement, and today we joined her and Dad for lunch to celebrate. I didn't take any pictures at the restaurant, so here's a shot Dad took of Mom and Sean and me back in 1976 or 1977; I'm terrible at guessing ages, but Sean look pretty new. As you can see, I haven't finished repairing this damaged scan yet, but even so I think it's a great shot of Mom. I could only get away with a suit like that in the 70s, though...

Sexist Villain

From Wonder Woman #219, 1975. The story itself is called "World of Enslaved Women!" The villain is called Mchsm, which almost seems like a vowel-less spelling of masochism...nah...couldn't be. 

Sean's Fetching Hat

Under the Crab Apple Tree

The early 80s, when the crab apple tree in our back yard was still young, and so were my brother and I. But the fashion! What am I wearing? A yellow belt and a football jersey. Tragic. Not that I was ever a fashion plate, of course...or paid that much attention...I suppose this is simply more evidence. Note the canoe in the background, which we hauled all the way from Leaf Rapids and never used in Alberta.

Space Invaders Tie

Tomorrow I'm attending an event identified as "business formal," which means I have to wear a tie. I have chosen this cool Space Invaders tie, which came as one of my LootCrates. Thanks Sylvia!

They should really make a T.I.E. fighter tie. 

The Poofy Shirt: An Alternative to Constrictive Formal Wear

I've often said that were I in charge of cultural norms, every human being would be free to wear whatever clothing they'd like, no matter the setting. Tuxedo for a trip to the garbage dump? By all means. Sweats and a t-shirt for the workday? Only in Earltopia, for the moment.

Since my radical fashion manifesto is unlikely to be widely adopted anytime soon, I propose a compromise: the poofy shirt. Poofy shirts (or "renaissance" shirts) are billowy, comfortable and dashing, far less restrictive than the sweat-inducing dress shirts men are forced to wear in many corporate settings. The poofy shirt's comfort technically meets the requirements of many workplaces in that it is long-sleeved and has a collar. I have not yet had the occasion to raise the issue with my manager, but when the time is right I'll present my proposal.

Besides being comfortable, the poofy shirt also offers the opportunity to leap into meetings with a brash "A ha!" while waving an imaginary sword. Sylvia says I should restrain myself. 

Dad's Birthday, 2015

Today is Dad's birthday. Happy Birthday, Dad! Here we are sometime back in the early 1970s. I still remember the feel of the plastic bricks that made up the faux-Lego building I'm holding. Those pajamas and the chair scream 70s, don't they?