My new jacket

My uncle died in 1990. He left some of his possessions to my mother, some to his sister, and some to his little brother. Among them was a leather jacket (you know, the Fonzie kind), and I don't know if my Uncle John ever wore it or just boxed it up all those years ago. This week, my mom discovered the leather jacket in a box and called John up. He told my mom that because he couldn't fit into it anymore, I could have the jacket, if I wanted to be cool.

Well, of course one wants what has always eluded them, so I happily accepted the jacket. It fits me pretty well, even if it's way heavier than it looks. The only problem is, it has a smell to it. My guess is that it's the musty smell of being boxed up for twenty years in closets or basements, and though I tried to wear it around today, the smell ultimately stifled me. I had to take the jacket off.

I considered putting it in the dryer with a couple of those sheets that make clothes smell like virgins entering a nunnery, but I worried that a trip through the dryer might ruin the jacket. I thought I'd call Jeff up and ask his wife what would happen to leather in a dryer, since she's smart about things like that.

But then I started to think about a leather jacket from a dead man with some kind of curse on it, the smell is something only I can detect, and while it certainly does make me "cool," the smell gets stronger and stronger while my list of admirers and bedmates grows. What could it lead to? Madness? Murder? Suicide, only to be donated to Goodwill and fall into the hands of some other unwary size 42?

That's just how my mind works, really. Thoughts that my dead uncle might possess me, thoughts that I might know things I couldn't possibly know when I wear the jacket, thoughts that the smell isn't mildew at all . . . but evil. Anyway, I don't think I'll actually write up any of these ideas, but I thought I'd share them anyway, since I honestly don't know what to do about the leather jacket.

I am tempted, however, to make some kind of awful play on that old "take off your pants and jacket" joke to end here.

But I shan't.

Rish "Aaaaaayyy" Outfield