In our communal seniority, especially in the winter, our friends have developed a sartorial style that I’m not crazy about. They love their sweat pants. Around the house is fine. However, they also wear sweat pants to do grocery shopping, go to COSTCO or run errands. As a son of the South, I was taught that you never left the house without being dressed appropriately. A man wearing sweat pants on the street was like a woman shopping with curlers in her hair. While in New York, we were traveling on the subway with our good friend Rob and Ron to catch a matinee. The subway was standing room only. At one stop, a couple of very large, muscular men got on the train and stood next to us. One of the men was wearing sweat pants. While traveling between stops, the man reached into his sweat pants to scratch himself. I told Ron that must be why our friends wear sweat pants – easy access. Ron whispered into my ear: “shut up, you’re going to get us killed”. I thought he was over reacting and made eye contact with our scratching companion. We shared a smile. Sometimes a man has to do what a man has to do. Who says New York isn’t friendly?