Yes, Honey, You Look Terrible In That Outfit But Please Wear It Anyways

Some days I think it's best if I just stay indoors and not subject the world to my cruel gaze and arrogant judgement. Today is one of those days.

I needed to go into town to run some errands and I knew my attitude was rotten when I looked askance at my neighbor's house. My next door neighbors live a little bit like I used to. Let's just say, the  contents of our weekly recycling bins look starkly different. I know something is wrong when I'm sitting in judgment, condemning people for crimes that I committed less than three years ago. But I do this sometimes. Even worse, I revel in it and I write blog posts about it.

This is me on a bad day. I'm normally very tolerant, understanding and caring. I love people and I want to help. But sometimes I need to be quarantined because my judgmental attitude is helpful to exactly no one. Additionally, I don't want to scoff at the wrong drunk and get my nose broken.

But the bigger lesson came when I was pushing my cart through Safeway, daintily selecting my wild this and organic that, scoping out the carts of "less refined" (and kinder, less asshole-ish) customers. I rounded a corner and to my arrogant delight saw a man wearing a Utilikilt, Teva sandles and white socks. I felt my insides giggle and jiggle. For those of you reading in places outside the Pacific Northwest, the Utilikilt is possibly the most ridiculous piece of clothing ever invented. It is not just a kilt. It is a utility kilt- with hooks, fasteners and pockets. Because when you want to look terrible and not wear pants with a belt, you still need a place to clip your cell phone.

Just then, a woman stepped out from behind him. A woman who I love and respect very much. An absolute hero of mine. This utilitarian Scotsman was her husband whom I have not met. I felt immediately like a huge jerk. She loves this man. Knowing her, he is probably a very kind, capable and worthy soul. She, a stylish and charismatic woman, has the courage to say "honey, you look absolutely ridiculous in that outfit but it's what you want to wear and I love you." Probably she didn't say anything about his clothes at all. She just accepts him for who he is. That's when I realized: I'm jealous.

I want that very much. I want to be accepted for the effeminate scarves I wear or the strange tattoos I got in my 20's. I want to be loved as the imperfect jerk that I am. I want a relationship with a woman who will say "Kevin, that tattoo on your back is very strange but I love all the parts of you." Although I will never wear a Utilikilt because I think they're retarded, my spirit is wearing one always.

But I was jealous of her too. Because I also want to accept others the way I see other people doing it. I don't want to be a gossip or a critic. I want to be a uniter and a beacon of love. I want to be Jesus. Wait, that's a little much.

The point is: Occasionally, I can act like a judgmental prick. I know there's a wonderful girl for me out there somewhere who will accept that about me. She's probably wearing high-top sneakers and a one-piece bathing suit instead of underwear.