Last week I got my spring/summer clothes shopping out of the way. Picked up some blue jeans and a bag of white socks. I still have plenty of ancient race t-shirts from my road running days but a few of my jeans needed more safety pins than a punk rocker and my toes were sticking through half the socks.

Now the holey hosiery can enter its rag phase, so I've stocked up on household cleaning supplies as well.

As usual I had a helluva time finding 28X32 inch trousers. Ever since high school, I've had the same problem finding anything that will hang on my skeletal frame. Maybe that's why I don't like buying clothes.

Or maybe I associate new clothes with the unwelcome onrush of the school year. When I was a kid my parents took me into town for my back-to-school wardrobe in August. At least there was no trouble about getting the right size. We went to Bonds where Mr. Gilligan and his tape measure made sure my pants would stay up.

Today things are different. Having the cuffs let out and the waist taken in is a perogative enjoyed by few. Someone hanging around the men's department offering to take an inseam would be reason to call the cops.