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A wift of memory gas there. I too have one of those Maine coats. Fortunately for me, my wife operates on a "I'll warn you once. I'll throw it out within a week." basis. Likr our fabled MX missle system moving around somewhere out in Nevada/New Mexico/Arizona, I bolt into action and move the Clothes that Define Me from one place in the closet to a box in the crawl space. This dance has worked well for us. We've agreed, non-verbally of course, that she can maintain her campaign to change me, on the inside. The outside, that's still in my hands, as is the Maine coat. Condolences on your loss. Try tying the coat to your car and drag it around a mudhole for an hour or two. Then wash it in Dr. Bronner's Peppermint Soap. Your missing dead water fowl pouch? A steady daily diet of 3-4 Dunkin Donuts should provide you with an adequate replacement within a month.


I think that Murray bought your old coat in a Unitarian rummage sale where everything you could fit in a paper grocery bag was just one dollar. He also managed to fit an oversized camel-hair full length coat and some lumberjack boots with red laces in that devilish bag. These items comprised his undergraduate art school wardrobe for all the snowy years he spent in Kansas City. They're gone now, though. Victory is mine!

Lynn S

I'm sorry for your loss. I am a woman but I understand. I have a pair of L.L. Bean handsewn blucher mocs that are more than 10 years old. They're not fit to be seen in public anymore and I bought a new pair just like them (except for the color) last year but the old ones still serve as yard and garden shoes. They are the most comfortable shoes in the world. They have perfectly molded themselves to my feet. I can't stand the thought that they might not last forever. I suppose, though, that in another decade the new ones might be ready to take their place.

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