Let's Talk About Capris

I don’t like ‘em. I don’t dislike ‘em as much as I dislike those stretchy pants with stirrups that women were particularly fond of wearing when I was out on the east coast between 1985 and 1991, but I still don’t like ‘em.

A woman can look good wearing them, but they don’t look good because of the capris; they look good to begin with. And I just don’t look at a woman with capris and think She looks fabulous in those capris. Conversely, I do think a tight pair of 501 Levis can make a shapely woman look astoundingly good.

And where did capris originate? Were they an accident? Were they part of a sinister plot by some manufacturer to get consumers to pay a full-pants-price for a partial pair of pants? Were they borne of the fetish of a man who has a thing for calves? I don’t know. I don’t think anyone knows.

I can’t help but notice that marketers overlooked men. Was there ever any test marketing? If not, who made the decision that men can’t or shouldn’t wear them? How short some memories are. It wasn’t that long ago that pirates were wearing them, and pirates were bad ass; even badder than ninjas. These days, not many men would be taken seriously while wearing capris. Maybe that’s why pirates were so damn ornery. Maybe they were really pussy-whipped and forced to wear capris by their frugal domineering wives who were concerned with saving money by cutting back on the wardrobe budget.

I suppose by now you’re wondering why the hell I’m writing about capris. Well, we were coming out of a little pre-graduation function for The Girl last night. The Warden was wearing a pair of black capris, a nice green blouse and some stylish shoes. Anyway, we were walking back to the car and The Warden overtook me. I caught her out of the corner of my eye as she clip-clopped past me and what the first thing that came to mind? Right -- Pirates. And no, I didn’t mention to her that her outfit reminded me of pirates. I may be a little off center, but I’m not suicidal. She looked marvelous of course; not because of the capris, but rather because I've been diggin' her since 1984 and pretty much want to ravage her every minute of the day.

Capris still suck though.

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Memory Du Jour:
1976, Arizona, High School
We were playing volleyball. A guy I didn’t like ran by to get a stray ball and bumped into me. Being a former grade-school tough, I shoved him and said something confrontational to him. Expecting he would say something back, and that we’d do the usual talking and shoving bullshit kids did back then, I waited for his response. His response was to punch me square in the mouth. It was a good right cross that broke my jaw right under the bottom-front teeth. I had braces on at the time so the amount of blood that poured from my mouth was impressive. I went after him at once. Were it not for the PE coach, the guy would probably still feel the pain of the ass whipping I’d planned on perpetrating upon him. The coach stopped me and said something coach-like. I said something like, “he broke my fuckin’ jaw,” to which he replied, “Hey, hey, watch your language young man.” “Fuck you. He broke my jaw.” I got suspended. So did the other dude. The other dude, after finding out he was on my “to do” list, apologized and said he didn’t want any trouble. Lucky him.

Graphic of the Day:

Quote of the Day:
“Today my opponent, in response to public outcry, proposed that our nation tap into the Strategic Petroleum Reserve. That's bad public policy.” --G.W. Bush, September 2000, criticizing President Clinton for suggesting the country use the strategic reserve due to oil prices.

CJ Note: Guess who’s suggesting it now? Yeah – Dubya. Talk about flip-flopping.