I spent the weekend on my apartment floor suffering from a series of small panic attacks. The reasons are not surprising-my deteriorating financial condition, swine flu, the fucking Celtics-but in any event, I only wandered out briefly, during which time a bird shit on my head (this is absolutely true, and it was a not inconsequential amount of shit) and I was made well aware that I am not at all prepared for summer. More specifically, I faced the recurring dilemma the horns of which I find myself impaled upon each time the season turns more temperate: Should I wear shorts?
See, I’m an old-school, square-jawed kind of fella. I believe a man drinks bourbon neat, smokes nothing lighter than Marlboro Reds, and, most importantly, does not wear short pants. But it seems like attitudes have changed recently. Everywhere I look, gentleman well past grade school age are walking about in half slacks, dude capris, and hotpants. I want to uphold the tradition of machismo passed down by generations of decent, trousers-clad Balk men, but it does get kind of hot out there. Also, I am completely covered in hair, so technically I am pretty much always layering when I get dressed. I put it to you, Awl readers: shorts on a guy. Acceptable or another terrible symbol of the blurred lines between man and woman, child and adult? Set me free! But make no suggestions regarding denim shorts; even I know how tacky those are.