So, I wore the outfit seen at the top of this thread (substituting green flashes and better hose) to company party last night, held at the Cincinnati Museum Center at Union Terminal. The place was mobbed by a couple thousand people, at least half of whom were children under five whose voiceboxes had somehow been retrofitted with car alarms. If only because of the sheer number of people in one place, I was more accutely aware of heads turning to look. The movement reminded me of wind blowing across a field of grain.

I spent most of my time there waiting in line for and viewing the Titanic relics exhibit, where the din was at least respectful. While standing in line, I encountered a handful of coworkers I knew well enough to acknowledge, and maybe only two said anything about the kilt.

When I emerged from the exhibit, the party had pretty much fizzled out and all the food was gone. Across the rotunda, I spied my boss, Rajeev, and his fellow manager, Brian, and their families, so I made a beeline for them to say hello. I might as well get this over with, I thought. As I approached, Brian gave me his sly smile and began placing an order for a dinner of Scottish fare. Rajeev was gracious as ever and introduced me to his wife and children, but did not draw attention to the kilt. I am certain that he will ask me about it sometime next week, though.

As I looked around at how people were dressed - more than three quarters of the attendees were in jeans and looked as though they were ready for a football game - I couldn't help but think how happy I was to have this work of art wrapped around me that Barb made by hand. It was an outstanding way to stand out from the crowd.

Regards,
Rex.