I have a stereotypical image of what an Islander is: He is of slight build, with ballcap, denim jeans and denim jacket. He holds a Tim Hortons cup almost always.
I am not of slight build, I don’t wear ball caps (not the right shaped head), only occasionally hold Tims cups (prefer Robins), and until this weekend, didn’t wear a denim jacket. This weekend I took a major step towards looking like an Islander. I bought a denim jacket. In Moncton.
I had been searching for a new jacket for a few weeks now. I wanted one that had big pockets on the lapel (big enough to carry my iPod and my digital camera), pockets in front down below (to carry car keys and coins). Buttoned up or zippered, it didn’t matter, but I wanted it to be cotton or denim. And it needed to be long enough for my tall frame. I didn’t want a nylon jacket. Any jacket I saw in Charlottetown failed in some way, so I moved to the internet and a brief search there failed too. My only hope was a trip to Moncton.
It’s the old story: I looked in practically every pertinent store in Moncton and hadn’t found a jacket that came close. After mentally giving up, I went into one more store, and there it was: the jacket. Huge upper pockets, deep dark lower front pockets (some inner pockets too!) and it was on sale. The only down side was that the jacket was of that type of denim that looks old and worn, kind of distressed. I really don’t like that. So, I had a decision to make. Get a jacket that is perfect in almost every way except for the crappy faded look, or, succumb to my petty ideas of taste and leave empty handed.
I bought the jacket and I’m glad I did.
Now I just have to rid myself of the notion that I look like an Islander. I am a Maritimer. Just like those two guys in Goin’ Down The Road.
I must embrace my roots.
I must be me.