I have noticed lots of these little moments in my life along the way. At different times. I think I first started noticing it after I finished college, earned my Ph.D. and had Dr. put before my name. I have always been scruffy looking. Beard. Long hair. Jeans. Flannel. T-shirts. People always treated me like a scruffy person. When they found out I was a Ph.D. I believe that it made their brains implode. With the title comes a small degree of respect, but because of how I looked there was a good deal of, what's the word I am looking for, disdain. And conflict, visible conflict would happen when the two clashed together. I remember one time when I was invited as the guest speaker at a consumer watchdog group for the handicapped and mentally ill. In my mind, I was dressed up. I wore clean black denim jeans, and what I throught was a very nice black and white flannel with hints of purple and blue. I thought I looked just fine. I was told this was a casual event. I get there... And hoowee... Casual meant suits, blazers, ties, slacks, chinos, etc. A very snooty lady met me at the door and with out even asking who I was, seated me in the very back of the room in a dim corner, at a very lonesome table all by my self. When my name was called out as the guest speaker and I had to walk through the whole hall with everybody looking at me, and that poor woman realizing who I was and looking mortified, well, it was not a pleasant experience. That day I spoke on stigma and stereotypes, two problems that plague the handicapped and the mentally ill. And almost the whole time I did it, I leveled my stare on that poor woman. I never did get an apology. Nor did I ever go back to White Oak. It is fair to say most of these so called professionals are actually part of the problem and not helping things at all. And they want so badly to aid their cause.

People make all sorts of assumptions about me. And I encourage them to do so, by doing things like letting my hair dreadlock and wearing kilts. It's actually sort of facinating in a morbid sort of way to encounter people and see psychology at work. Am I baiting people? Or am I just giving them enough rope to hang themselves? Mayhap both. Since people seem to want to catagorize me, I feel I should give them a little extra to work with, and make them at least put forth some effort in their thought processes.

I am loving the kilt as a whole experience. My wife is quite taken with it as well. She is starting to enjoy observing people that are observing me.

Oh, and I had my first Marylin Monroe moment. Oh, to be free as nature intended. Lots of gasps though.