trevallion

In December of 2000 the US Navy took the liberty of issuing me a black peacoat. They did so the third week of basic training, at the same time as dress and service uniform issue. That was a particular point of pride in my early career as a sailor because it meant that I was finally allowed to wear the real sailor uniforms instead of the bleak boring working uniforms that resembled something an auto mechanic would wear.

Typically, however, when it was cold enough for the peacoat I would instead opt for my foul weather jacket (known to you civilians as a trench coat) because it was longer, lighter, and it was all cotton instead of heavy wool so it wouldn't get ruined by the rain that I tended to encounter so frequently while I was stationed in the Pacific Northwest.

Needless to say my peacoat didn't see much uniformed service while I was in the Navy. I did manage to gradually integrate it into my civilian attire. It was fancy (but not too fancy) and it matched pretty much anything I wore, plus it meant that I didn't have to shell out the cash for a real winter jacket. I refused to wear the foul weather jacket in civilian clothing for fear of being mistaken for one of those angsty rebellious teenagers, and for the simple fact that wearing your foul weather jacket in public out of uniform was a dead giveaway to other sailors that you were indeed in the Navy and you wanted everyone to know about it. At least with a peacoat you could pretend that it was surplus, or a knock off.

I continued to wear my peacoat even after my discharge. It served as a constant reminder that I had endured the rigors associated with military service and that I had emerged (mostly) unscathed. Occasionally I would run across some old codger that would inquire as to the origin of my coat. I'd tell him and we'd swap a sea story or two and go about our business, and it was times like that which allowed me to realize that my time wasn't quite as bad as it seemed like it was while I was in. It really did seem like hell, but looking back I wouldn't trade it for anything.

More recently I decided to complement my wardrobe with an olive green hoodie. I love the peacoat, but it just isn't suitable for spring or autumn weather and it weighs somewhere in the neighborhood of 20 pounds making it a hassle to carry in luggage when I travel, and I really hate putting things in overhead storage which left me with no choice than to wear it on the plane. The funny thing is that the first time I wore the hoodie on an airplane was the first time that I noticed the unconscious system I had created for traveling that was wholly dependent on my peacoat. Previously I would sit in my seat, locate something to listen to on my ipod, which I would slide into the interior pocket of the coat, and then remove my glasses and hang them in the eyelet of the coat's top button. The hoodie was not designed for such versatility. Its shallow external pockets allow my ipod to frequently slip out and wedge itself next to my seat cushion, and storing my glasses means keeping the hood strings tied or keeping it zipped up. I'm not terribly inconvenienced by either of these measures but I found it funny how I had created this small system for myself only to have it demolished by this poly-cotton blend hooded sweatshirt. I guess it's the small things that you don't really notice until they're gone.