The Rebel Has Awoken


Here’s the story of coats, dilemmas, and cockles.

I faced every man’s worst dilemma this week. And no, I’m not talking about when you work in an office, you go to the bathroom and on your return, you don’t realise your dinkle is hanging out. No, I’m talking about spiders. You see, men aren’t brave. We pretend to be brave to impress, but in reality, no. Just… no. If we see a spider and we’re in the company of a lovely young lady, of course we’ll smush the spider real good. Unless she’s a hippy, then we release the spider into the wild. But it’s considerably worse if you’re in the presence of another man. You both know that you both hate spiders, but you’re both men. Men bottle up their emotions so in this situation, we’re both stood there acting all brave, but in reality, we’re both absolutely bricking it. It’s a strange turn of events to be caught up in. It happened to me this week. “Just move that box please, Ally.” “Okey-doke. Oh look, there’s a spider. Ah, well. Just… just an arachnid. No reason to panic.” I lifted up the box and moved it. With a five inch spider crawling all over it. On the outside, I was hunky-dory. On the inside, ‘ARRGH! IT’S A SPIDER! IT’S GONNA KILL ME! SAVE ME, SUPERMAN!’ He’s often my go-to guy in times of crisis. Still hoping he’ll show up one day…

I’ve had nothing but dilemmas this week. You see, I’m a man of logic, but people think that’s crazy, so I’ve had a go at being illogical in recent months. Turns out, I’m not enjoying it all that much, readers. I mean, I’ve often felt like I’m in a ballroom doing the fox-trot surrounded by people doing the cha-cha. And I sure can’t dance.

Case in point, my coat. Now, sane people have many coats. Many shoes. Many… well, many everything, really. People buy clothes when they see something they like. And they wear them when they feel like it. Logic only really comes into it where the weather is concerned. I mean, your favourite footwear may be your hemp flip-flops, but you sure aint wearing those in the middle of an arctic blizzard, are you? Well, I did once, but that’s another story…

I come from a different perspective. I buy clothes when I need them. I might see a coat or a pair of shoes that I really, really like, and I won’t buy them. People think it’s madness. “But you really, really like that coat.” True. But I’m not buying any replacement coat unless my old coat is riddled with holes and all manner of such hell. It makes perfect sense, really. Life’s simpler this way. You have one coat, one pair of shoes. Sure, in recent years, I’ve branched out and I now have seasonal coats, but only one of each. The problem with this is that the British weather is a complete and utter… arsehole. And this got me thinking. What if I try being illogical. What if I bought that coat I really liked? Oh, yeah. The rebel has awoken.

I now have six coats and I don’t know what to do with them. When it’s cold, I have a lovely thick coat and sure, the British summer has been largely a letdown, but it’s not been so cold I need a huge, thick coat to warm my cockles. I have a really thin one that I’ve brought out a few times when it hit 30. I always wear a coat, by the way. “30 degrees! Why are you wearing a coat in that heat!” Always wear a coat. I don’t like people seeing my hilariously thin arms. I will concede I am a bit odd.

I have a nice waterproof coat that’s good for those funny days, where it’s hot one minute and freezing cold the next, but it doesn’t have a hood. I do have two woolly ones with hoods, but they are a bit thick. And I also have a couple jumpers. All these things, by the way, are black or grey. I only buy things in black or grey. Someone bought be a lovely shirt once but it was in a pinky red colour. Never wore it. Considered making a pillow out of it…

This week, however. Oh, boy. It looked lovely outside. Thin coat. Oh, Jesus, I was freezing. Next day, it looked about the same, but it was windy. So I wore a combination of the waterproof coat and the thin coat, which has a hood, but it so flimsy I had to hold it up, making me almost wish I had an umbrella. But I’m a man and we can’t pull off umbrellas.

The next day, well, lovely again. Still a touch windy, so on goes the woolly hoodie and a jumper. Oh man alive, I nearly baked to death. So the next day, I played it safe. Waterproof. Needless to say, it rained like hell and I got absolutely soaked. On the next day, I stuck with a different jumper plus the waterproof, a coat I detest but can’t find an improvement on. And I had to move a lot of things, so I was pretty sweaty come the end of that particular endeavour.

You’re probably building a picture of a man who can’t dress himself. True. I loved my logic. One coat, no problems. Well, except one occasionally suffocated in ridiculous heat, or froze in ridiculous cold. On the face of it, multiple coats seems like a sane solution, but as I’ve demonstrated, nope. Illogical clothing doesn’t work for me. I tried my best, readers, but I just can’t get the hang of this ‘multiple coats’ malarkey. Some people would say that, in my attempts to bring some perfectly normal ‘illogical’ into my life in an attempt to bring sanity and order into my life, my efforts have only served to make things even more mad. Maybe I should just stop trying. But when you’re like me, you can turn off the logic.

Some would say that simply taking off a coat or a jumper might solve the problems I face, or vice versa. Nah. I DON’T LIKE MY ARMS! I also don’t like undressing in public, even if it is a coat or a jumper. I mean, maybe a coat if nobody is looking, otherwise it just feels ‘weird’ and ‘wrong.’ Don’t ask me why, even I don’t know. But a jumper is a big ‘no-no.’ It messes my hair up. And my luscious, long flowing locks are wonderful. A woman would brush her hair after taking off a jumper in public. A man can’t brush his hair in public. Think of the ridicule! Plus, my hairbrush is made of wood. Who has a wooden hairbrush these days? “HA! Look at that man trying to brush his crazy long hair with his crazy wooden hairbrush! Does he know he’s a man and all these things are socially unacceptable for a dude?” They wouldn’t say precisely that, of course. Well, most of it. Well, all of it apart from ‘dude.’ No one has ever, or will ever, call me ‘dude.’ Well, in Australia they did, but they call everyone ‘dude.’ Even the teachers. “G’day, dudes, hope you’re all feeling super awesome!”


You might say one shouldn’t care about all this. Maybe. But it’s hardwired. You can be the rebel and go against societal pressures all you want, but you’ll be doing the cha-cha in a room full of fox-trotters.

Still, at least I didn’t bow to all the pressures of living an illogical life.

I still only have one pair of shoes…

American historian, Bernard DeVoto, once said: “The mind has its own logic but does not often let others in on it.”

Peace Out :|:

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. You can leave a comment and/or like this post below, or by clicking the title on the top of this post if you are on the ‘Archives’ page. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks.

Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other blog:

To Contrive & Jive
New Posts Every Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday
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