zero per gallon

To date myself by quoting Will Smith, "I make this sh** look good."

Occasionally, I get dressed up. My day job allows me the latitude, in general, to throw on a pair of jeans and whatever wrinkled balled up thing I can find in the bottom of my closet without many people batting an eye. But as I’ve continued on my path to corporate domination through tightly written copy transmitted through Outlook Email Servers, I have occasionally been required to put on some dress pants.

Now don’t get me wrong. The stripes and argyle will go with me to the grave. But I trade in my jeans for some pinstripe, now and again. Like this past week.

And when I rode back from the airport, suitcase-laden Burley Trailer in tow, garbed in all the fittings of a proper businessman, I got some looks. But I’ll tell you, I felt like a million bucks. There I was, in all my corporate regalia, clearly adopting one despicable American cultural construct while at the same time flipping the bird to another other.

A few of you do this on a daily basis, especially back East, where corporate dress codes aren’t quite as relaxed as they are for us soft Californians. And you know what? You oughta be proud. I sure was.

Outliers are the harbingers of change. And speaking of outliers, I would be remiss if I did not pay my respects to Champ, who has been so artfully portrayed in this short film that’s been buzzing around the blogosphere of late. So from the suits of SOMA, I take you to the Scrapers of East Oakland.