Toward Napoleon by Jacket

A man can need something like a military jacket.

He can need the epaulettes and the pockets and the heavy metal buttons that clankle when he walks. He can even need the space between the buttons, because he can need to pose like Napoleon in photos, and to do that he’ll need somewhere to put his hand.

He can need all of these things and the crisp crinkle of canvas when he moves suddenly in the sun; but he can’t have always have them when he needs them.

I’m not a man like that, apparently.

When I need a thing like a military jacket, I search for one at the mall and find one in size small - because I like the fit better that way. Then I pay for it. Then I have them put it in a bag. Then I take it home and wash it in hot water. Then I dry it in the dryer.

Then I wear it around the house, picking up objects to see which will fit in the pockets and which will not:

Anthology of California Poets: Check.
Small terra cotta jaguar: No.
Art Deco inspired desk clock: Check.
Esquire magazine: Only if rolled.

When you see me and my military jacket, say hello. You’ll know me by my savoir vivre.
If that doesn’t do the trick, try being needed by me like a military jacket. I’m excellent at finding what I need and putting my hand in it like Napoleon.

Believe me.