I hit the streets kilted in my black Survival Utilikilt Saturday for a few errands and some lunch with my best gal by my side. First stop: WalMart. Yeah, I know. Going there on a good day is iffy at best but in a kilt, well… Picking up the things I needed, I see a guy trying, no so subtlety, to grab a photo with his phone. I laughed it off and carried on. Around the next isle, there he was again snapping away. I almost struck a pose for him but ended up ignoring him. Next stop: Lunch at a local watering hole. I was warmly greeted with a hearty welcome, a handshake and numerous compliments on my kilt from all the staff. Good food, by best gal and Guinness, it doesn’t get much better than that. The last stop took us to another retailer. The friendly associate asked, “Are you part of those Highland Games?” A polite “no” was my answer. She then asked if I was Scottish to which I replied, “No, just comfortable.” At this point she blushed a bit and said she liked all the pockets and went on about her other duties. My wife asked if I like all the attention the kilt brings. I thought for a moment and reflected on the wide gamut of the day’s experiences and I had to say that, yes, I kinda do enjoy being ‘different.’ As I mentioned in one of my original posts, I have no family tartan to sport or rich heritage to carry on. I chose wear a kilt for comfort and, as an added benefit, a statement of originality. At 56 I don’t much care what people think about what I wear or how I wear it so I’ll be content to don my non-traditional kilts, sandals or boots and a golf shirt and smile to myself as I continue to keep folks wondering about the odd, old guy with the ‘man-skirt.’