If you met me on the street, you might mistake me for someone whose mother didn’t teach him how to present himself in a tidy and respectable matter. At this stage in life, I accept that possibility, because I am perfectly content with old clothes, a battered baseball cap and uncombed eyebrows. (Some of you old guys out there may know what I mean, right?) On one hand, this phenomenon is notMORE...
November 15, 2017
Scruffy hat, scruffy guy