Oh! Almost forgot. We (Sherri, her daughter visiting from Michigan, and I) went to a high-school play. Very nice production of "Jungle Book." One of Sherri's co-workers had a son in the play.

A few of the adults seemed puzzled and one or two seemed a bit upset at my attire. No reaction at all from the kids.

I was down in San Jose to look into getting my car painted. I wanted to check the place out before taking the car in, so I parked on the street. I didn't have change for the meter, so I walked up to a couple of tough-looking Hispanic youths standing on the corner and asked for change for a dollar.

No reaction. No change either. A guy had just parked a utility truck behind my car. I hit him up for change as he got out of the truck. I got change and headed to the shop.

I walked in and the guy at the desk (wearing blue coveralls) looked at the kilt. "Hot day today," he said gazing longingly at the kilt.

I conversed with the guy, checked the paint samples and brought the car around for an estimate.

Other than the car accident that happened across the street from where I was parked (teenaged girl apparently ran a red light, clipped an SUV, went up on the sidewalk and wrapped the front of her car around a light pole -- no serious injuries, thank goodness), it was a pretty un-eventful outing.

San Jose, for those who haven't been there, is a very conservative town inhabited largely by Hispanic immigrants. During the weekdays you'll seen people in business attire in the downtown area. You're just as likely to see guys in jeans, cowboy hats and cowboy boots.

I'm in San Jose quite a bit since I go to college there and attend live theatre. In four years I've only caught a glimpse of another fellow in a kilt. But I think there was a festival of some kind in town.

Rigged