Baby, it's cold outside.
Yeah, I know that you northerners crack up when a Texan talks about cold as if he knew what he was talking about. But I've been cold before. One fall, I was hunting with Dad up on Wolf Creek Pass near Pagosa Springs, CO, when I noticed that my rifle action was frozen solid from the snow and refreezing, meaning that I couldn't have even shot at the elk that I was trying to hunt. No amount of effort on my part was at that point capable of thawing the action, and believe me-- I tried. That same day, Dad caught a touch of frostbite, even though he was a seasoned hunter. I don't mean "caught a chill," or "got the shivers;" I mean that flesh crystallized.
So, I've been cold before. Maybe not Jack London-esque, your-spittle-crackles-as-it-freezes-in-mid-air, so-we-might-as-well-use-the-Kelvin-scale-kind-of-cold, but still-- I've experienced damned well below freezing, in the open air, for long periods of time type of cold.
It's cold today. The temp says 28... now make that 21degrees Fahrenheit out, and the wind, though now dropping, had been flirting with a steady 25 mph most of the day, gusting a good 35 or so on occasion.
Just right for a nice hot cup of coffee.
Which I spilled.
On the seat of my cruiser.
Did I mention that it's windy?
On the plus side, my winter clothing is still packed away somewhere in a storage unit that I packed during our July move, and after I complained a bit, my PD sent my uniform parka and liner combo to finally have my patches and name stitched on them, so I don't have a uniform coat.
Oh. Wait. That wasn't the plus side.
Uh, the fact that the only pressed shirts I had ready this morning were short-sleeved? No... that's not it.
Ooh! I've got it. This is big news, for me anyway:
Somebody makes a set of underwear worth the $15.00 US that they're asking for it, and it doesn't even come from Victoria's Secret. Seriously.
My wife heeded my
Look carefully in that admonition, and you'll find in it that glowing sparkle: It's Love.
So I said that I would try the Remington licensed long underwear. She rolled her eyes and said, "Of course you'd choose the expensive crap. Why did I even suspect you'd go for the cheap stuff?" (Still more Love.)
Now, I know that the same folks that button-rifled and headspaced the 26" stainless steel fluted heavy barrel to my old Remington Model 700 Sendero .300 Winchester Magnum (which I later sold to a retired Texas Ranger when I was in a pinch for cash) are not the same people that manufactured these long-handles. I fully understand how licensed products work, and, as a rule, I avoid them. Usually, it involves a very prominent logo on outerwear. I don't like wearing ANYONE's logo on my outerwear, unless I'm paid to advertise for them. But I especially don't like wearing gun companies' logos on my outer wear. Several reasons:
1. See above.
2. I don't like looking like a wanna-be, who is thrilled to associate himself with anything gun-related.
3. I'm a private person about my lifestyle choices.
4. Why mark myself as a possible gun-toter, when I'm trying to blend in long enough to ruin Mr. Bad Guy's day?
5. Often it's overpriced ordinary merchandise that I could get for a good deal less if it didn't have the logo, and could then also wear to a wider variety of activities.
But licensed underwear... Hmmm... Reasons 1 through 4 are dispensed with by the very fact that I wear it under my outerwear (hence, like, you know-- the name. Underwear, dig?). And because they don't get the benefits of those who want to sport the logo, maybe the licensing company has to actually spring for quality.
Did they ever. Wow. Even wet with coffee, it keeps me warm. Never overheats. Never gaps. Sits close to the skin while never binding. Never hinders movement. Very thin.
I'm getting more. This stuff is great. It's way better than old polypro, and it kicks waffle-weave's butt.